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ENGLISH CLASSICS FOR SCHOOLS 



MARMION 



A TALE OF FLODDEN FIELD 



BY / 

SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 



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NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 






Copyright, 189", by 
American Book Company, 

Marmion. 



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INTRODUCTION. 



When Sir Walter Scott had completed this poem of " Mar- 
mion," in 1808, he foresaw that it would be a favorite with 
youth; and in the lines "To the Reader," at its conclusion, he 
specified the schoolboy in a passage which shows his warm feel- 
ing, and his appreciation of the schoolboy's natural heart : — 

" To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay 
Has cheated of thy hour of play, 
Light task and merry holiday! " 

To read " Marmion " is indeed a light and pleasant task, for 
the subject and the style engage the reader's interest from the 
start ; but to read it to the best purpose, and with full under- 
standing, one needs to get in some way that knowledge of the 
time in which the events narrated occurred, of the places and 
historical facts mentioned, and of the prevailing social conditions 
then existing, which the author presumed the reader would pos- 
sess. To supply the information with sufficient fullness and 
clearness, and also to explain such words and literary construc- 
tions as may be strange or obscure, is the purpose of this edition. 

Such things as any intelligent teacher may be supposed com- 
petent to interpret readily, or the explanation of which may be 
found in the smaller dictionaries or in other books of reference 
easily accessible to pupils, have been left without remark. It is 

5 



o INTRODUCTION. 

not intended to supersede, but to aid, the proper work of both 
teacher and pupil. The notes are seldom critical, and they are 
always brief. 

The author describes his work in the sub-title as " A Tale of 
Flodden Field." In his preface he said more particularly, "The 
present story turns upon the private adventures of a fictitious 
character, but is called f A Tale of Flodden Field,' because the 
hero's fate is connected with that memorable defeat, and the 
causes which led to it." In the same preface he speaks of it as 
" a romantic tale," and " an attempt to paint the manners of the 
feudal times." 

A romantic tale of which the hero is a fictitious person must 
not be regarded as history, but it may be expected to truly pic- 
ture the spirit and manners of the time. Scott's success in doing 
this is universally confessed. It is a true picture of life and 
incidents that might easily have been based upon historical facts 
and conditions that were actual. Imaginary persons are made 
to live in, and to be a part of, a real world and a real society, as 
not being strangers to the one or the other, or false to the pos- 
sibilities of human nature. To accomplish this successfully is 
the art of the writers of romance, poetry, novels, and the drama, 
as distinguished from the art of chroniclers and historians. 

The battle of Flodden is an historical battle, which was fought 
between the English and the Scotch on the 9th of September, 
1 5 13, just about twenty-one years after the discovery of America 
by Columbus. This poem, therefore, describes a state of things 
existing in England and Scotland in that era of the world. 
Scotland's King, and the flower of its chivalry, were slain on 
that field, and England obtained a signal victory. Some of the 
circumstances of this battle related by Scott — as, for example, 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

the error of tactics by which the King of Scotland recklessly 
abandoned to the English the strongest position — are histori- 
cally true. 

Throughout the poem there are incidents which are matters of 
historic record ; but the author, who was writing a fictitious story, 
uses these to suit his purpose, even when in fact they did not 
occur at the precise time, or in the order or manner, of his 
representation. Examples of this dealing with history are re- 
ferred to in the notes. It is a liberty or license permitted to 
writers of fiction, just as there is permitted to poets a license, to 
violate certain conventional forms of words and grammatical 
constructions to which writers of prose are expected to conform, 
or allowed to painters who compose an ideal landscape to bring 
together features of actual landscapes that are really separated. 

Scott wrote several similar romantic tales in verse, which in 
their form were different from anything that had been previously 
attempted. The first in order is entitled " The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel," — a title which happily suggests the origin and devel- 
opment of their form from that of the ancient ballads. A ballad 
is a popular narrative poem adapted to be sung or recited. In 
almost all the older nations the important incidents of their early 
history were preserved, before the art of printing became com- 
mon, by means of ballads composed and sung (or recited) by 
poets or minstrels. These minstrels were often attached to the 
households of kings and lords, but sometimes wandered from 
place to place, making their livelihood by entertaining the people 
with their compositions. The best of these productions were 
preserved from generation to generation by memory. Com- 
monly a ballad treated only of a single theme. To be popular 
and easily remembered, it had to be composed in a style attract- 



8 INTRODUCTION. 

ive to the ear, — that is, in some simple, natural rhythm, — as 
well as to treat of a subject which was dear to the people. 

Scotland was especially rich in these ballads celebrating its 
heroes and their deeds. Scott was a great lover of them, and 
he spent much of his time, when a young man, traveling through 
the country, and writing them down as they were repeated to 
him. He published a collection of them in three volumes, add- 
ing some new ones composed by himself. It was after this 
apprenticeship, so to speak, in the art of a particular style of 
poetry, that he wrote the long narrative poem in easy eight-syl- 
labled verses, describing an elaborate series of romantic inci- 
dents, which he called "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," thus 
placing himself in the honorable class of the ballad-makers who 
celebrated his native land. This poem was wonderfully success- 
ful in Scotland and in England. 

His next attempt in the same line was this poem entitled 
" Marmion," which is now regarded by most critics as the best 
of the series, and one of the best narrative poems in the English 
language. It describes the life and manners of an age so differ- 
ent from ours, that its interest as a romance increases rather than 
lessens with its age. It is true that the beginning of the six- 
teenth century was the period of the decline of feudalism ; but 
its essential spirit, and also its substantial forms, endured in 
northern England and in Scotland after they had yielded to the 
modern order in some other places. The proud and fierce spirit 
of the rival chiefs of the Scottish clans, and the almost constant 
warfare prevailing on the Border, contributed to perpetuate the 
military and social conditions peculiar to feudal civilization. The 
centers of influence were the castles of lords, and the monasteries 
of abbots and abbesses. The tests of character were fidelity to 



INTR 01) UC TION. 9 

military chiefs and to the chiefs of the Church. War was es- 
teemed the noblest occupation for men. Superstition was every- 
where prevalent. Honor was cherished by the few who were 
presumed to be capable of possessing honor, it being rather a 
birthright of the privileged few than a quality of the subject 
many. Religion tolerated and enforced cruel barbarities : liberty 
was a license to do injustice and indulge oppression. 

In spite of all this strangeness of conditions, the young reader 
of the poem will not fail to perceive that the persons of this tale 
were actuated and controlled by motives which he can under- 
stand ; which are, in truth, such as he feels in his own heart, and 
discovers in the conduct of those about him. "While most of 
them are creatures of the imagination, they are very human, — 
they awaken respect, admiration, and love, or suspicion, con- 
tempt, and hatred, as real men and women do, — and their acts 
are consistent with their characters. These are qualities of the 
work which recommended it to his contemporaries, which recom- 
mend it to our liking, and which will secure for it a permanent 
fame. 

The events of this story occur in southern Scotland and north- 
ern England, — a region with which the author was thoroughly 
familiar, having been accustomed from early life to wander over 
the ground which centuries of strife had made historic, and to 
observe carefully all features of the unchanging scene. His 
descriptions of localities, therefore, are in their detail worthy of 
confidence ; and his rank as a vivid delineator of natural scenery 
is among the first of English poets. 

The region of southern Scotland is called the Scotch Low- 
lands, in distinction from the Scotch Highlands in the central 



I O INTR OD UC TION. 

and northern portion of the country ; but it is itself a region 
picturesque in its varied surface of hills and valleys, although 
the hills are neither so high nor so rugged as in the Highlands. 
South of the Border the country is hardly less broken and varied 
in its natural characteristics. 

In the time of which Scott writes, the distinctions between the 
inhabitants of the Highlands and those of the Lowlands, and 
between either and the people of England, were more marked 
than they are now. The intimacy of association which long 
peace, common interests, and modern facilities of intercourse, 
have fostered, has brought about changes of dress, manners, and 
customs ; so that the Scotch are now distinguished from their 
southern neighbors chiefly by their inherited physical features 
and peculiarities of speech. These differences are more marked 
in the peasantry of the two sections than in the wealthy and 
more cultivated classes, and are not so great as those formerly 
existing between the Highlanders and the Lowlanders. 

The Highlanders spoke a language called " Erse " (Irish) or 
" Gaelic," which was a Celtic dialect distinct from English. 
They wore a short coat and waistcoat ; a kilt, called also " filli- 
beg " (which was a short petticoat reaching to the knees) ; and 
short hose, that left the legs bare. Their garments were usually 
of tartan, — a checkered or plaided woolen tloth. The lan- 
guage of the Lowlanders resembled the English, but had some 
peculiarities. 

In the time of the Roman domination of the world, Scotland 
was inhabited by tribes of savage hunters and shepherds, who 
lived in huts, and went nearly naked. The Romans called the 
country " Caledonia." They tried to conquer it, but were less 
successful than in England. In the fifth century the Saxons 



INTRODUCTION. II 

conquered, and settled in the Lowlands ; and Edwin, one of 
their leaders, founded Edwinsburg, now called Edinburgh. 
Early in the sixth century the Scots, a Celtic tribe from Ireland, 
settled on the west coast. The predominant native race at that 
time was known as the Picts. The Picts were converted to 
Christianity by missionaries from Ireland ; but soon afterward 
they were conquered, and disappeared before the Irish invaders. 
In the year 866 the piratical Danes began invading the country ; 
and for two hundred years they endeavored to subdue it, but 
were always repulsed. 

During all this early period the people of Scotland were divided 
into many tribes, or, in the Celtic language, clans. A clan is a 
collection of families who are regarded as being descended from 
some common ancestor, and are subject to the rule of one of 
their lineage, called a chief. Some of these clans were very 
numerous and powerful, and they were often at war among them- 
selves. The chiefs were as petty kings over their own people. 

In the tenth century the Scotch, as the people of the whole 
country have come to be known, from the Scots who came into 
it from Ireland, invaded England, and annexed portions of 
English territory. This was the beginning of an almost constant 
series of conflicts between the Scotch and the English, that con- 
tinued for nearly six hundred years, until it happened that the 
heirship to the thrones of both kingdoms was united in one 
person — James VI. of Scotland, and James I. of England — in 
1603. This was nearly a century after the events that are nar- 
rated in the poem of " Marmion." 

The record of this Border strife is so crowded with events of 
historic interest and significance, that it is impracticable to pre- 
sent here even a summary of them ; but it is an important por- 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

tion of the life of the English and Scotch races. In the course 
of the conflict all Scotland became united in a kingdom under 
one ruler, although the clans were preserved, and were some- 
times rebellious, sometimes treacherous. The conditions preced- 
ing and bringing on the disastrous battle of Flodden may, how- 
ever, be briefly set forth. 

In 1460 James II. of Scotland, who had taken part in the 
civil war of England, commonly known as the War of the Roses, 
was accidentally killed. His son, James III., was then but eight 
years old. As soon as he became of age, his brother, Alexander, 
Duke of Albany, assumed the title of King, and began a war for 
possession of the throne. He was supported by many of the 
powerful nobles of Scotland, among the rest the Douglas family 
and the Lord of the Isles; but he was finally defeated in 1483. 
Later the nobles, unsubdued in spirit, made a new rebellion, this 
time in the name of the King's son, who was sixteen years old. 
In this attempt they were successful, James III. being defeated 
and slain in battle in the year 1498. The rebellious son then 
became King of Scotland as James IV. 

He was a person of much ability, many accomplishments, and 
strong inclination to a life of pleasure and vice ; but he had also 
a conscience, that troubled him on account of his sins, and 
especially on account of his rebellion against his father. There- 
fore by spells he led a life of austerity and penance, retiring from 
his court, and assuming the garb and practices of a monk. 

The Scotch nobles and chiefs of clans who had rebelled 
against his father were not actuated by any real devotion to him- 
self. Their aim was to enhance their own power, and influence 
and lessen that of royalty. Hence they soon began hostilities 
against the new King, and the early part of his reign was dis- 



INTROD UCTION. 1 3 

tracted by a bitter struggle to establish his supremacy, which was 
finally secured ; the powerful Lord of the Isles, a leader in insur- 
rections, being forced to surrender his possessions to the Crown. 

In 1509 Henry VIII. succeeded to the throne of England. 
Between England and France there had been many wars ; and 
a mutual jealousy existed, which easily kindled into flame upon 
slight pretexts. In these wars Scotland had often been the active 
ally of France against the hereditary foe of both. Henry had 
not been long on the throne when he determined on an invasion 
of France. At the same time, Scotland, having suppressed in- 
ternal strife, was in a condition to resume hostilities. 

The Queen of France sent a very affectionate letter to King 
James, calling him " my love," saying that she had suffered much 
insult for her devotion to him, and calling upon him to raise an 
army and invade England, if only for three feet over the Border. 
She sent him as a present a beautiful turquoise ring, and also a large 
sum of money for the expenses of making war in behalf of France. 
The expectation was that Henry would quit France in order to 
defend his own realm against the Scotch. 

James was not proof against such blandishments, which 
appealed alike to his vanity and his ambition. He immediately 
began preparations for war, and sent a herald to Henry in 
France to make demands for redress of certain wrongs done in 
years gone by. But Henry did not return to England : instead, 
he intrusted the defense of his country on the north to the Earl 
of Surrey, who mustered an army of about thirty thousand men, 
with which he marched to the border of Scotland, meeting the 
equal army of James at Flodden in Northumberland County, 
where a spur of the Cheviot Hills overlooked the deep river Till. 
Here was fought the battle so fatal to Scotland's heroes. 



1 4 INTROD UCTION. 

Marmion, the hero of this poem, is represented as an envoy 
from England sent to Scotland to demand of the King the reason 
of the hostile preparations that were making. Such formal official 
preliminaries were, and are still, a common practice between 
nations, even when the truth is well known, and when both sides 
are anxious for war. 

The poems originally published as "introductions" to the 
several cantos of " Marmion " are in this edition omitted from 
their usual places, and inserted after the main story. This is 
done for two reasons. First, they are not introductory in any 
proper sense, but are separate and distinct, in their themes, 
from the story of " Marmion : " hence, however admirable and 
worthy they may be of their own kind, they would serve to 
interrupt and distract the attention of the young if read and 
studied in place. It is highly important in education to develop 
the faculty of sustained interest, and the habit of considering 
parts in their relation to a whole. Only mature and disciplined 
minds can patiently tolerate long interruptions of an engaging 
story. Scott's biographer, Lockhart, relates that these " intro- 
ductions " were written before " Marmion," and with the inten- 
tion of publishing them in a separate volume. Secondly, these 
poems are more interesting to older pupils than to those for 
whom this book is specially prepared, and are better suited for 
their instruction. They may be read more profitably, perhaps, 
in connection with studies of modern English history. They are 
published in this book without notes. Those who use them in a 
later stage of their studies may be presumed to have attained an 
age when it will be useful for them to be required to search out, 
under guidance, such information as they need. W. A. 



AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 

It is hardly to be expected that an author whom the public 
have honored with some degree of applause should not be again 
a trespasser on their kindness. Yet the author of " Marmion " 
must be supposed to feel some anxiety concerning its success, 
since he is sensible that he hazards, by this second intrusion, any 
reputation which his first poem may have procured him. The 
present story turns upon the private adventures of a fictitious 
character, but is called "A Tale of Flodden Field," because the 
hero's fate is connected with that memorable defeat, and the 
causes which led to it. The design of the author was, if possible, 
to apprise his readers at the outset of the date of his story, and 
to prepare them for the manners of the age in which it is laid. 
Any historical narrative, far more an attempt at epic composi- 
tion, exceeded his plan of a romantic tale ; yet he may be per- 
mitted to hope, from the popularity of " The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel," that an attempt to paint the manners of the feudal 
times, upon a broader scale, and in the course of a more inter- 
esting story, will not be unacceptable to the public. 

The poem opens about the commencement of August, and 
concludes with the defeat of Flodden, 9th September, 15 13. 

ASHESTIEL, 1808. 



The dotted line shows 
Supposed routes of Marmion. 

ENGLISH MILES 




Bradley $ FOatea_, N. Y. 



MARMION. 



CANTO FIRST. 

THE CASTLE. 



DAY set on Norham's 1 castled steep, 2 
And Tweed's 3 fair river, broad and deep, 

And Cheviot's 4 mountains lone: 
The battled 5 towers, the donjon 6 keep, 
The loophole grates, where captives weep, 
The flanking walls 7 that round it sweep, 

In yellow luster shone. 
The warriors on the turrets high, 
Moving athwart the evening sky, 

Seemed forms of giant height : 
Their armor, as it caught the rays, 
Flashed back again the western blaze, 

In lines of dazzling light. 

1 An old English fortress near the river Tweed, not far from its mouth. 

2 The high bank or ridge on which the castle stood. 

3 A river of Scotland flowing into the North Sea, and forming for a dis- 
tance the eastern boundary between England and Scotland. 

4 Hills south of the castle, on the boundary between England and Scot- 
land. 

5 Having battlements, i.e., having openings, through which cannon may 
be pointed. 

6 See Glossary. 

7 Walls which surrounded the donjon. 

2 17 



1 8 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 



II. 

Saint George's banner, 1 broad and gay, 

Now faded, as the fading ray- 
Less bright, and less, was flung ; 

The evening gale had scarce the power 

To wave it on the donjon tower, 
So heavily it hung. 

The scouts had parted 2 on their search, 
The castle gates were barred ; 

Above the gloomy portal arch, 

Timing his footsteps to a march, 
The warder 3 kept his guard, 

Low humming, as he paced along, 

Some ancient Border gathering song. 4 

in. 

A distant trampling sound he hears ; 
He looks abroad, and soon appears 
O'er Horncliff-hill 5 a plump 6 of spears 

Beneath a pennon gay ; 
A horseman, darting from the crowd 
Like lightning from a summer cloud, 
Spurs on his mettled courser proud, 

Before the dark array. 
Beneath the sable palisade 
That closed the castle barricade, 

His bugle horn he blew ; 

1 The flag of England, a white flag bearing the red cross of Saint George, 
England's patron saint. 

2 Separated. It may also mean departed. 

3 Guard. The castle warder was something like the modern sentry. 

4 A song used by warriors on the Border as a signal for meeting. 

5 An elevation a short distance down the river. 

6 Group, cluster; i.e., a body of horsemen. 



i.] M ARM ION. 19 

The warder hasted from the wall, 
And warned the captain in the hall, 

For well the blast he knew ; 
And joyfully that knight did call 
To sewer, 1 squire, and seneschal. 

IV. 

" Now broach 2 ye a pipe 3 of Malvoisie, 4 

Bring pasties of the doe, 5 
And quickly make the entrance free, 
And bid my heralds ready be, 
And every minstrel sound his glee, 6 

And all our trumpets blow ; 
And, from the platform, spare ye not 
To fire a noble salvo-shot ; ' 

Lord Marmion waits below!" 
Then to the castle's lower 1 ward 

Sped forty yeomen 1 tall, 
The iron-studded gates unbarred, 
Raised the portcullis' 1 ponderous guard, 
The lofty palisade unsparred, 8 

And let the drawbridge 1 fall. 

v. 
Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode, 
Proudly his red-roan charger 9 trode, 10 

1 See Glossary. 

2 Tap. 

3 A wine measure, usually 126 wine gallons. Two pipes make a tun. 

4 A sweet white wine from Crete and the Canary Islands, called in English 
" Malmsey." 

5 " Pasties," etc., i.e., venison pies. 

6 Joyful song or music. 

7 A salute of welcome (Latin, salve, "hail"). 

8 The spars or stakes forming the palisade at the gate were taken away. 

9 War horse. 10 An old form of " trod; " stepped. 



20 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

His helm 1 hung at the saddlebow; 
Well by his visage you might know 
He was a stalworth 2 knight, and keen, 
And had in many a battle been ; 
The scar on his brown cheek revealed 
A token true of Bosworth 3 field ; 
His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, 
Showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire ; 
Yet lines of thought upon his cheek 
Did deep design and counsel speak. 
His forehead, by his casque 4 worn bare. 
His thick mustache, and curly hair, 
Coal-black, and grizzled here and there, 

But more through toil than age, 
His square-turned joints, and strength of limb, 
Showed him no carpet 5 knight so trim, 
But in close fight a champion grim, 

In camps a leader sage. 

VI. 

Well was he armed from head to heel 

In mail 5 and plate 5 of Milan steel; 6 

But his strong helm, of mighty cost, 

Was all with burnished gold embossed ; 

Amid the plumage of the crest, 5 

A falcon 5 hovered on her nest, 

With wings outspread and forward breast : 

1 Helmet. 

2 Stalwart. 

3 The battle (Aug. 22, 1485) which ended the War of the Roses, and 
placed Henry VII. on the English throne. It was fought near the town of 
Bosworth, Leicester County, England. 

4 A form of helmet. 

5 See Glossary. 

6 The steel from Milan, Italy, was famous. 



L] M ARM I ON. 21 

E'en such a falcon, on his shield, 
Soared sable in an azure field : ] 
The golden legend 2 bore aright, 3 
"Who checks 4 at me, to death is dight." 5 
Blue was the charger's broidered rein ; 
Blue ribbons decked his arching mane ; 
The knightly housing's 4 ample fold 
Was velvet blue, and trapped 6 with gold. 

VII. 

Behind him rode two gallant squires, 
Of noble name, and knightly sires ; 
They burned the gilded spurs 7 to claim ; 
For well could each a war horse tame, 
Could draw the bow, the sword could sway, 
And lightly bear the ring 8 away; 
Nor less with courteous precepts stored, 
Could dance in hall, and carve at board, 9 
And frame love ditties passing 10 rare, 
And sing them to a lady fair. 

VIII. 

Four men 4 at arms came at their backs, 
With halberd, 4 bill, 4 and battle-ax : 
They bore Lord Marmion's lance so strong, 
And led his sumpter 4 mules along, 

1 " Sable in," etc., i.e., black in a blue ground, — terms used in heraldry. 

2 " Golden legend," i.e., motto in gold letters. 3 Rightly or truly. 
4 See Glossary. 5 Prepared; destined. 

6 Decorated. 7 The badge of knighthood. 

8 There is a game of chivalry in which a horseman, riding at full speed, 
catches a suspended ring on his spear. 

9 To " carve at board" was an important accomplishment in a squire's 
education. 

10 Exceedingly. 



2 2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And ambling palfrey, when at need 
Him listed ease 1 his battle steed. 
The last and trustiest of the four, 
On high his forky pennon 2 bore ; 
Like swallow's tail, in shape and hue, 
Fluttered the streamer glossy blue, 
Where, blazoned sable, as before, 
The towering falcon seemed to soar. 
Last, twenty yeomen, two and two, 
In hosen 2 black, and jerkins blue, 
With falcons broidered on each breast, 
Attended on their lord's behest. 
Each, chosen for an archer good, 
Knew hunting craft by lake or wood ; 
Each one a six-foot bow could bend, 
And far a cloth-yard 2 shaft could send ; 
Each held a boar spear tough and strong, 
And at their belts their quivers rung. 
Their dusty palfreys, and array, 
Showed they had marched a weary way. 

IX. 

'Tis meet that I should tell you now 
How fairly armed, and ordered how, 

The soldiers of the guard, 
With musket, pike, 2 and morion, 2 
To welcome noble Marmion, 

Stood in the castle yard ; 
Minstrels and trumpeters were there, 
The gunner held his linstock 2 yare, 2 

For welcome-shot prepared : 
Entered the train, and such a clang 

1 " Him listed ease," i.e., it pleased him to ease. 

2 See Glossary. 



I.] M ARM ION. 23 

As then through all his turrets rang, 
Old Norham never heard. 



The guards their morrice-pikes : advanced, 

The trumpets flourished brave, 2 
The cannon from the ramparts glanced, 3 

And thundering welcome gave. 
A blithe salute, in martial sort, 

The minstrels well might sound, 
For, as Lord Marmion crossed the court, 

He scattered angels 1 round. 
"Welcome to Norham, Marmion! 

Stout heart, and open hand! 
Well dost thou brook 4 thy gallant roan, 5 

Thou flower of English land." 

XI. 

Two pursuivants, 1 whom tabards 1 deck, 
With silver scutcheon 1 round their neck, 

Stood on the steps of stone, 
By which you reach the donjon gate, 
And there, with herald pomp and state, 

They hailed Lord Marmion: 6 
They hailed him Lord of Fontenaye, 
Of Lutterward, 7 and Scrivelbaye, 

Of Tamworth tower and town ; 

1 See Glossary. 2 Bravely; inspiringly. 3 Flashed fire. 

4 Hold in hand; control. 5 Horse of bay or chestnut color. 

6 The hero of the poem is a fictitious character, but the name belonged to 
an old English family. Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, was one of the Nor- 
man followers of William the Conqueror ; and from this monarch he received 
grants of the Manor of Scrivelby and the town and castle of Tamworth, both 
in central England. 

7 Perhaps Lutterworth in Leicestershire, England. 



24 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And he, their courtesy to requite, 

Gave them a chain 1 of twelve marks' 2 weight, 

All as he lighted down. 
" Now, largesse, 3 largesse, Lord Marmion, 

Knight of the crest of gold! 
A blazoned 4 shield, in battle won, 

Ne'er guarded heart so bold." 



XII. 

They marshaled 5 him to the castle hall, 

Where the guests stood all aside, 
And loudly flourished the trumpet call, 

And the heralds loudly cried, 
" Room, lordlings, 2 room for Lord Marmion, 

With the crest and helm of gold! 
Full well we know the trophies won 

In the lists 2 at Cottiswold: 6 
There vainly Ralph de Wilton 7 strove 

'Gainst Marmion's force to stand ; 
To him he lost his lady-love, 

And to the King his land. 
Ourselves beheld the listed field, 8 

A sight both sad and fair ; 
We saw Lord Marmion pierce his shield, 

And saw his saddle bare ; 
We saw the victor win the crest 

He wears with worthy pride ; 

1 Chain of gold. 2 See Glossary. 

3 A gift ; a bounty. An expression ordinarily used to ask for a gift, but 
here an exclamation of surprise, and of thanks for Marmion's generosity. 

4 Decorated with emblems as tokens of bravery in battle. 

5 Conducted with ceremonious escort. 

6 Cotswold, in Gloucestershire. 

7 Marmion's rival. See Canto II. xxviii. 

8 " Listed field," i.e., the field inclosed by the lists for tournaments. 



I.] M ARM ION. 25 

And on the gibbet-tree, 1 reversed, 2 

His foeman's scutcheon tied. 
Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight! 

Room, room, ye gentles 3 gay, 
For him who conquered in the right, 

Marmion of Fontenaye!" 

XIII. 

Then stepped, to meet that noble lord, 

Sir Hugh the Heron 4 bold, 
Baron of Twisel 5 and of Ford, 5 

And Captain of the Hold. 3 
He led Lord Marmion to the deas, 3 

Raised o'er the pavement high, 
And placed him in the upper place — 

They feasted full and high : 
The whiles 6 a Northern harper rude 
Chanted a rhyme 7 of deadly feud, 

" How the fierce Thirwalls, and Ridley s all, 
Stout Willimondswick, 
And Hardridt7ig Dick* 

And Hughie of Haivdon, and Will <?' the Wall, 

1 Gallows. 

2 Turned upside down. Single combat was the common means for set- 
tling questions of honor. If the conquered knight was not killed, he lost rank 
and fortune. The inversion of his shield on the gallows published his defeat. 

3 See Glossary. 

4 Heron was placed in charge of the fortress by Henry VIII. His real 
name was William Heron, not Hugh ; and historically he was at this time a 
prisoner in Scotland, while his wife was at Ford Castle. 

5 Border castles on the English side. Ford was about a mile northeast of 
Flodden Hill, and Twisel was near Norham. 

6 In the mean time. 

7 Compare Scott's Border Minstrelsy, " The Death of Featherstonhaugh." 
The families mentioned in the rhyme or ballad were of north and northeast 
Northumberland. 

8 Richard Ridley of Hardriding. 



26 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

Have set on Sir Albany Feather stonhaugh, 
And taken his life at the Deadmarfs shaw." 1 
Scantly 2 Lord Marmion's ear could brook 

The harper's barbarous lay ; 3 
Yet much he praised the pains he took, 
And well those pains did pay : 
For lady's suit and minstrel's strain, 
By knight should ne'er be heard in vain. 

XIV. 

" Now, good Lord Marmion," Heron says, 

" Of your fair courtesy, 
I pray you bide 4 some little space 5 

In this poor tower with me. 
Here may you keep your arms from rust, 

May breathe 6 your war horse well; 
Seldom hath passed a week but joust 7 

Or feat of arms befell : 
The Scots can rein a mettled steed, 

And love to couch a spear; 8 — 
Saint George! a stirring life they lead 

That have such neighbors near. 
Then stay with us a little space, 

Our Northern wars to learn ; 
I pray you for your lady's grace! " 

Lord Marmion's brow grew stern. 

xv. 
The captain marked his altered look, 
And gave a squire the sign ; 

1 See Glossary. 2 Scarcely ; hardly. 

3 Song. 4 stay. 5 Time. 

6 Cause to be out of breath from exercise. 

7 Tilting match between knights. 

8 " Couch a spear," i.e., place the butt of the spear in a hook or rest 
fastened to the side of the armor. The spear is so couched for attack. 



i.J M ARM ION. 2) 

A mighty wassail 1 bowl he took, 

And crowned 2 it high with wine. 
" Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion : 

But first I pray thee fair, 3 
Where hast thou left that page 1 of thine, 
That used to serve thy cup of wine, 

Whose beauty was so rare ? 
When last in Raby 4 towers we met, 

The boy I closely eyed, 
And often marked his cheeks were wet 

With tears he fain would hide : 
His was no rugged horse-boy's hand, 
To burnish shield or sharpen brand, 

Or saddle battle steed ; 
But meeter seemed for lady fair, 
To fan her cheek or curl her hair, 
Or through embroidery, rich and rare, 

The slender silk to lead : 
His skin was fair, his ringlets gold, 

His bosom — when he sighed, 
The russet doublet's 1 rugged fold 

Could scarce repel its pride ! 
Say, hast thou given that lovely youth 

To serve in lady's bower P 1 
Or was the gentle page, in sooth, 

A gentle paramour? " 

XVI. 

Lord Marmion ill could brook such jest ; 

He rolled his kindling eye, 
With pain 5 his rising wrath suppressed, 

Yet made a calm reply : 

1 See Glossary. 2 Filled full to the brim. 3 Courteously. 

4 Raby Castle in Durham, the estate of the Duke of Cleveland. 

5 Difficulty. 



28 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

"That boy thou thought so goodly 1 fair. 
He might not brook the northern air. 
More of his fate if thou wouldst learn, 
I left him sick in Lindisfarne : 2 
Enough of him. — But, Heron, say, 
Why does thy lovely lady gay 
Disdain to grace the hall to-day? 
Or has that dame, so fair and sage, 
Gone on some pious pilgrimage? " — 
He spoke in covert scorn, for fame 
Whispered light tales of Heron's dame. 

XVII. 

Unmarked, at least unrecked, the taunt, 

Careless the knight replied, 
" No bird, whose feathers gayly flaunt, 

Delights in cage to bide : 
Norham is grim and grated close, 
Hemmed in by battlement and fosse, 3 

And many a darksome tower ; 
And better loves my lady bright 
To sit in liberty and light, 

In fair Queen Margaret's 4 bower. 
We hold our greyhound in our hand, 

Our falcon on our glove ; 5 
But where shall we find leash 3 or band 

For dame that loves to rove? 

1 Exceedingly. 2 Holy Isle (see Note 4, p. 40). 

3 See Glossary. 

4 Wife of James IV. of Scotland, and sister of Henry VIII. of England. 
Through her James I. of England received his claim to the English throne. 
He was the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, who was the granddaughter of 
Queen Margaret. 

5 In hunting, the falcon was carried on the hand, which was protected from 
its claws by a glove. 



I.] MARMION. 29 

Let the wild falcon soar her swing, 

She'll stoop 1 when she has tired her wing." — 



XVIII. 

" Nay, if with royal James's 2 bride 

The lovely Lady Heron bide, 

Behold me here a messenger, 

Your tender greetings prompt to bear ; 

For, to the Scottish court 3 addressed, 4 

I journey at our King's behest, 

And pray you, of your grace, provide 

For me and mine a trusty guide. 

I have not ridden in Scotland since 

James backed the cause of that mock prince, 

Warbeck, 5 that Flemish counterfeit, 

Who on the gibbet paid the cheat. 1 

Then did I march with Surrey's 6 power, 

What time we razed old Avton Tower." 6 — 



XIX. 

" For such-like need, my lord, I trow, 
Norham can find you guides enow ; 7 

1 See Glossary. 

2 James IV. (1472-1513), King of Scotland. He invaded Northumber- 
land during the absence of Henry VIII. in France, but was defeated and 
slain at the battle of Fiodden, Sept. 9, 15 13. 

3 Palace of Holyrood, Edinburgh. 4 Sent. 

5 Perkin Warbeck was of Flemish parentage, and bore a striking resem- 
blance to Edward IV. of England. He assumed the name of Edward's son, 
Richard, Duke of York, the younger of the two princes murdered in the 
Tower of London, and made several unsuccessful attempts to place himself 
on the English throne. He was executed in England in 1499. 

6 Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey. In retaliation of the invasion of 
England, he advanced into Berwickshire, but retreated after taking the castle 
of Ayton. Surrey finally defeated James at Fiodden. 

7 Enough. 



3° SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

For here be some have pricked l as far, 

On Scottish ground, as to Dunbar; 2 

Have drunk the monks of Saint Bothan's 3 ale, 

And driven the beeves 4 of Lauderdale; 5 

Harried the wives 6 of Greenlaw's 7 goods, 

And given them light to set their hoods." 8 — 

xx. 

" Now, in good sooth," 9 Lord Marmion cried, 

"Were I in warlike wise 10 to ride, 

A better guard I would not lack n 

Than your stout foray ers 6 at my back ; 

But as in form of peace I go, 

A friendly messenger, to know 

Why through all Scotland, near and far, 

Their King is mustering troops for war, 12 

The sight of plundering Border spears 

Might justify suspicious fears, 

And deadly feud, or thirst of spoil, 

Break out in some unseemly broil : 

A herald were my fitting guide ; 

Or friar, 6 sworn in peace to bide ; 

J Ridden. 

2 A town on the Scottish coast, twenty-five miles north of Norham. 

3 A monastery near the Border in Scotland. 

4 " Driven the beeves," i.e., driven off the cattle as plunder. 

5 The valley of the Lauder, a tributary of the Tweed. 

6 See Glossary. 

1 Capital of Berwickshire, Scotland. 

& " Given them light," etc. A jocose term which the Borderers used to 
express the burning of a house. 

9 " In good sooth," i.e., truly. 

10 Form. 

11 Desire. 

12 " But as in form," etc. This passage gives the gist of Marmion's mis- 
sion. 



I.] M ARM ION. 31 

Or pardoner, 1 or traveling priest, 
Or strolling pilgrim, 1 at the least." 



XXI. 

The captain mused a little space, 

And passed his hand across his face. 

" Fain would I find the guide you want, 

But ill may spare a pursuivant, 1 

The only men that safe can ride 2 

Mine errands on the Scottish side : 

And though a bishop 3 built this fort, 

Few holy brethren here resort ; 

Even our good chaplain, as I ween, 

Since our last siege, we have not seen : 

The mass 1 he might not sing or say, 

Upon one stinted meal a day ; 

So, safe he sat in Durham aisle, 4 

And prayed for our success the while. 

Our Norham vicar, 1 woe betide, 5 

Is all too well in case 6 to ride ; 

The priest 7 of Shoreswood — he could rein 

The wildest war horse in your train ; 

But then, no spearman in the hall 

Will sooner swear, or stab, or brawl. 

Friar John of Tilmouth were the man : 

A blithesome brother at the can, 8 

1 See Glossary. 2 Convey by riding. 

3 Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham, rebuilt the castle in 1 164, adding the 
donjon. 

4 Cathedral. 

5 " Woe betide," i.e., unfortunately. 

6 " Too well in case," i.e., too stout. 

7 Probably Welsh, the Vicar of Saint Thomas of Exeter, a leader of Corn- 
ish insurgents in 1 549. 

8 " At the can," i.e., at drinking. 



3 2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

A welcome guest in hall and bower, 1 
He knows each castle, town, and tower, 
In which the wine and ale is good, 
'Twixt Newcastle 2 and Holy-Rood. 3 
But that good man, as ill befalls, 4 
Hath seldom left our castle walls, 
Since, on the vigil of Saint Bede, 5 
In evil hour, he crossed the Tweed, 
To teach Dame Alison her creed. 
Old Bughtrig found him with his wife ; 
And John, an enemy to strife, 
Sans 6 frock and hood, fled for his life. 
The jealous churl hath deeply swore, 
That, if again he venture o'er, 
He shall shrieve 7 penitent no more. 
Little he loves such risks, I know, 
Yet, in your guard, perchance will go." 

XXII. 

Young Selby, at the fair hall board, 

Carved to his uncle and that lord, 

And reverently took up the word. 

" Kind uncle, woe 8 were we each one, 

If harm should hap to brother John. 

He is a man of mirthful speech, 

Can many a game and gambol teach ; 

1 " In hall," etc., i.e., with gentlemen and ladies. 

2 A city on the Tyne River in Northumberland. 

3 The royal palace or abbey at Edinburgh. 

4 " As ill befalls," i.e., as it unfortunately happens. 

5 " Vigil of Saint Bede," i.e., the religious service on the evening before 
the feast of Saint Bede, a celebrated monk and historian of the eighth century, 
known as the Venerable Bede. His calendar day is May 27. 

6 Without. 

7 Hear confession and give absolution, duties of a Roman Catholic priest. 

8 Sorrowful. 



I.] MARMION. 33 

Full well at tables 1 can he play, 

And sweep at bowls Y the stake away. 

None can a lustier carol bawl, 

The needf ullest 2 among us all, 

When time hangs heavy in the hall, 

And snow comes thick at Christmas tide, 

And we can neither hunt nor ride 

A foray on the Scottish side. 

The vowed revenge of Bughtrig rude 

May end in worse than loss of hood. 

Let Friar John, in safety, still 

In chimney-corner snore his fill, 

Roast hissing crabs, 3 or flagons swill : 

Last night to Norham there came one 

Will better guide Lord Marmion." — 

"Nephew," quoth Heron, "by my fay, 4 

Well hast thou spoke ; say forth thy say." — 

XXIII. 

"Here is a holy Palmer 1 come, 

From Salem 5 first, and last from Rome ; 

One that hath kissed the blessed tomb, 6 

And visited each holy shrine. 

In Araby 7 and Palestine ; 

On hills of Armenie 8 hath been, 

Where Noah's Ark may yet be seen ; 

By that Red Sea, too, hath he trod, 

Which parted at the Prophet's 9 rod ; 

In Sinai's wilderness he saw 

The Mount where Israel heard the law, 

1 See Glossary. 2 The person most needed. 

3 Crab apples. 4 Faith. 5 Jerusalem. 

6 The Holy Sepulcher at Jerusalem. 7 Arabia. 

8 Armenia. 9 Moses. 

3 



34 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

'Mid thunder-dint 1 and flashing levin, 2 
And shadows, mists, and darkness, given. 
He shows Saint James's cockleshell; 3 
Of fair Montserrat, 4 too, can tell; 

And of that Grot where Olives nod, 
Where, darling of each heart and eye, 
From all the youth of Sicily, 

Saint Rosalie 5 retired to God. 



XXIV. 

" To stout Saint George of Norwich 6 merry, 
Saint Thomas, 7 too, of Canterbury, 
Cuthbert of Durham 8 and Saint Bede, 
For his sins' pardon hath he prayed. 
He knows the passes of the North, 
And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth ; 9 
Little he eats, and long will wake, 
And drinks but of the stream or lake. 
This were a guide 10 o'er moor and dale ; 
But, when our John hath quaffed his ale, 
As little as the wind that blows, 

1 Clap of thunder. 

2 Lightning. 

3 The especial badge of a pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint James (Spain's 
patron saint) at Compostella. 

4 A mountain in Catalonia, Spain, celebrated for the Benedictine abbey 
erected upon it, at a height of twelve hundred feet. 

5 Santa Rosalia, a high-bred lady of Palermo, who forsook the world, 
and sought religious seclusion in a cave or grot on the northern coast of 
Sicily. 

6 At Norwich there is a noted church dedicated to Saint George. 

7 Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, assassinated in the reign 
of Henry II. 

8 See Note 4, p. 40 ; also Note 4, p. 50. 

9 A river in southern Scotland. 

10 " This were a guide," i.e., this Palmer will be a safe guide. 



i.] M ARM I OX. 35 

And warms itself against his nose, 1 

Kens 2 he, or cares, which way he goes." — 

XXV. 

" Gramercy ! " 3 quoth Lord Marmion, 
" Full loath were I that Friar John, 
That venerable 4 man, for me, 
Were placed in fear or jeopardy. 
If this same Palmer will me lead 

From hence to Holy-Rood, 
Like his good saint, I'll pay his meed, 5 
Instead of cockleshell or bead, 

With angels 2 fair and good. 
I love such holy ramblers ; still 6 
They know to charm 7 a weary hill 

With song, romance, or lay : 
Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest, 
Some lying legend, at the least, 

They bring to cheer the way." — 

XXVI. 

"Ah! noble sir," young Selby said, 

And finger on his lip he laid, 

" This man knows much, perchance e'en more 

Than he could learn by holy lore. 8 

1 A nose red from drink. 

2 See Glossary. 

3 A contraction of the French grand merci (" great thanks "). 

4 Ironically used. 

5 Reward. Marmion means that he will thus act the part of a good saint 
toward a votary. 

6 Always. 

7 Lighten the task of climbing. 

8 Wisdom. Selby suggests that the Palmer knew something of magic, a 
knowledge of which was considered unholy. 



3 6 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Still to himself he's muttering, 

And shrinks as at some unseen thing. 

Last night we listened at his cell ; 

Strange sounds we heard, and, sooth to tell, 

He murmured on till morn, howe'er 

No living mortal could be near. 

Sometimes I thought I heard it plain, 

As 1 other voices spoke again. 

I cannot tell — I like it not — 

Friar John hath told us it is wrote, 

No conscience clear, and void of wrong, 

Can rest awake, and pray so long. 

Himself still sleeps before his beads 2 

Have marked ten aves 2 and two creeds." 2 — 



XXVII. 

" Let pass," 3 quoth Marmion ; " by my fay, 
This man shall guide me on my way, 
Although the great arch-fiend 4 and he 
Had sworn themselves of company. 
So please you, gentle youth, to call 
This Palmer to the castle hall." 
The summoned Palmer came in place ; 5 
His sable cowl o'erhung his face ; 
In his black mantle was he clad, 
With Peter's keys, 6 in cloth of red, 
On his broad shoulders wrought ; 
The scallop shell 7 his cap did deck ; 
The crucifix around his neck 



1 As if. 2 See Glossary. 3 Let it pass. 

4 Satan. 5 " Came in place," i.e., entered the place. 

6 Keys of heaven (Matt. xvi. 19), — symbolic insignia of the Roman 
Catholic Church. 

7 Cockleshell (see Canto I. xxiii.). 



MARMION. 37 

Was from Loretto x brought ; 
His sandals were with travel tore, 
Staff, budget, 2 bottle, scrip, 2 he wore ; 
The faded palm-branch in his hand 
Showed pilgrim from the Holy Land. 

XXVIII. 

When as 3 the Palmer came in hall, 

Nor lord, nor knight, was there more tall, 

Or had a statelier step withal, 

Or looked more high and keen ; 
For no saluting did he wait, 
But strode across the hall of state, 
And fronted Marmion where he sate, 

As he his peer had been. 
But his gaunt frame was worn with toil ; 
His cheek was sunk, alas, the while! 4 
And when he struggled at a smile, 

His eye looked haggard-wild : 5 
Poor wretch ! the mother that him bare, 
If she had been in presence there, 
In his wan face, and sunburned hair, 

She had not known her child. 
Danger, long travel, want, or woe, 
Soon change the form that best we know — 
For deadly fear can time outgo, 

And blanch at once the hair ; 
Hard toil can roughen form and face, • 



1 A sacred town of Italy, containing, according to story, a house (the 
home of the Virgin Mary) which was transported there from Nazareth by 
angels. 

2 See Glossary. 3 " When as " has here the value of " when." 

4 This expression simply means " alas." 

5 A double adjective, meaning " haggard and wild." 



3 8 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And want can quench the eye's bright grace, 
Nor does old age a wrinkle trace 

More deeply than despair. 
Happy whom none of these befall, 
But this poor Palmer knew them all. 

XXIX. 

Lord Marmion then his boon did ask ; 
The Palmer took on him the task, 
So he would march with morning tide, 
To Scottish court to be his guide. 
"But I have solemn vows to pay, 
And may not linger by the way, 

To fair Saint Andrew's 1 bound, 
Within the ocean-cave to pray, 
Where good Saint Rule 2 his holy lay, 
From midnight to the dawn of day, 

Sung to the billows' sound ; 
Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well, 3 
Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, 

And the crazed brain restore : 
Saint Mary grant that cave or spring 
Could back to peace my bosom bring, 

Or bid it throb no more ! " 

XXX. 

And now the midnight draught 4 of sleep, 
Where wine and spices richly steep, 

1 A city of Scotland, north of Edinburgh, so named because Saint Rule 
was supposed to have brought Saint Andrew's relics there. 

2 Saint Regulus, a monk of the eighth century, one of the first to take 
Christianity into Scotland. 

3 A well the water of which was reputed to cure insanity. Other wells in 
Scotland bore Saint Fillan's name also. 

4 Draught inducing sleep. 



I.] MARMION. 39 

In massive bowl of silver deep, 

The page presents on knee. 
Lord Marmion drank a fair good rest, 1 
The captain pledged 2 his noble guest, 
The cup went through 3 among the rest, 

Who drained it merrily ; 
Alone the Palmer passed it by, 
Though Selby pressed him courteously. 
This was a sign the feast was o'er ; 
It hushed the merry wassail roar, 

The minstrels ceased to sound. 
Soon in the castle naught was heard 
But the slow footstep of the guard 

Pacing his sober round. 

XXXI. 

With early dawn Lord Marmion rose : 

And first the chapel doors unclose ; 

Then, after morning rites were done, 

(A hasty mass 4 from Friar John,) 

And knight and squire had broke their fast 

On rich substantial repast, 

Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse: 5 

Then came the stirrup 6 cup in course : 

Between the baron and his host, 

No point of courtesy was lost ; 

High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid, 

Solemn excuse the captain made, 

1 " Drank a fair," etc., i.e., expressed a courteous good-night. 

2 Drank his health. 

3 Around. 

4 Probably the short form of the mass, called hunting mass, said before 
nobles impatient to begin the chase. 

5 " Blew to horse," i.e., gave the signal for mounting. 

6 See Glossary. 



40 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Till, filing from the gate, had passed 
That noble train, their lord the last. 
Then loudly rung the trumpet call ; 
Thundered the cannon from the wall, 

And shook the Scottish shore ; 
Around the castle eddied slow 
Volumes of smoke as white as snow, 

And hid its turrets hoar ; 
Till they rolled forth upon the air, 
And met the river breezes there, 
Which gave again the prospect fair. 



CANTO SECOND. 

THE CONVENT. 



THE breeze which swept away the smoke 
Round Norham castle rolled, 
When all the loud artillery spoke 
With lightning flash and thunder stroke, 

As Marmion left the hold, l — 
It curled not Tweed alone, that breeze, 
For, far upon Northumbrian seas, 2 

It freshly blew, and strong, 
Where, from high W T hitby's 3 cloistered pile, 
Bound to Saint Cuthbert's Holy Isle, 4 

1 Stronghold. 

2 Parts of the North Sea near the coast of Northumberland. 

3 Whitby Abbey, founded by Oswy, King of Northumberland, in 657, on 
the coast of Yorkshire, England. 

4 Lindisfarne, an island at high water on the coast of Northumberland, 
near Norham Castle, called "Holy Isle" from its ancient monastery, and 



ii.] M ARM I ON. 4 1 

It bore a bark along. 
Upon the gale she stooped her side, 
And bounded o'er the swelling tide, 

As she were dancing home ; 
The merry seamen laughed to see 
Their gallant ship so lustily 

Furrow the green sea foam. 
Much joyed they in their honored freight ; 
For on the deck, in chair of state, 
The Abbess of Saint Hilda 1 placed, 
With five fair nuns, 2 the galley graced. 

ii. 

'Twas sweet to see these holy maids, 
Like birds escaped to greenwood shades, 

Their first flight from the cage, 
How timid, and how curious too, 
For all to them was strange and new, 
And all the common sights they view 

Their wonderment engage. 
One eyed the shrouds and swelling sail, 

With many a benedicite ; 3 
One at the rippling surge grew pale, 

And would for terror pray, 
Then shrieked because the sea 4 dog, nigh, 

from its being the seat of the Episcopal see of Durham during the early 
periods of Christianity in Great Britain. Saint Cuthbert was the most famous 
of the bishops who resided there. He died in a hermitage on the Fame 
Islands, A.D. 686, having, about two years before, resigned the Lindisfarne 
bishopric. 

1 Whitby Abbey. Saint Hilda was its first abbess. 

2 An historical inaccuracy, as there were no nuns at Whitby in the time 
of Henry VIII. 

3 The first word of a Latin prayer. It means " Bless us," and is here 
used as a pious exclamation of mingled wonder and surprise. 

4 See Glossary. 



42 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

His round black head and sparkling eye 

Reared o'er the foaming spray ; 
And one would still adjust her veil, 
Disordered by the summer gale, 
Perchance lest some more worldly eye 
Her dedicated charms might spy, 
Perchance because such action graced 
Her fair-turned arm and slender waist. 
Light was each simple bosom there, 
Save two, who ill might pleasure share, — 
The Abbess, and the novice 1 Clare. 

in. 

The Abbess was of noble blood, 
But early took the veil and hood, 
Ere upon life she cast a look, 
Or knew the world that she forsook. 
Fair too she was, and kind had been 
As she was fair, but ne'er had seen 
For her a timid lover sigh, 
Nor knew the influence of her eye. 
Love to her ear was but a name, 
Combined with vanity and shame ; 
Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all 
Bounded within the cloister 1 wall: 
The deadliest sin her mind could reach 
Was of monastic rule the breach ; 
And her ambition's highest aim 
To emulate Saint Hilda's fame. 
For this she gave her ample dower 
To raise the convent's eastern tower ; 
For this, with carving rare and quaint, 
She decked the chapel of the saint, 

1 See Glossary. 



ii.] MARMION. 43 

And gave the relic shrine 1 of cost, 
With ivory and gems embossed. 
The poor her convent's bounty blest, 
The pilgrim in its halls found rest. 

IV. 

Black was her garb, her rigid rule 2 
Reformed on Benedictine 3 school ; 
Her cheek was pale, her form was spare ; 
Vigils, and penitence austere, 
Had early quenched the light of youth, 
But gentle was the dame, in sooth ; 
Though vain of her religious sway, 
She loved to see her maids obey ; 
Yet nothing stern was she in cell, 4 
And the nuns loved their Abbess well. 
Sad was this voyage to the dame ; 
Summoned to Lindisfarne, she came, 
There, with Saint Cuthbert's Abbot old, 
And Tynemouth's Prioress, 5 to hold 
A chapter of Saint Benedict, 
For inquisition stern and strict, 
On two apostates from the faith, 
And, if need were, to doom to death. 



Naught say I here of Sister Clare, 
Save this, that she was young and fair ; 

1 The shrine in which the remains of a saint were kept. 

2 The special regulations of a religious order. 

3 A monastic order founded by Saint Benedict. The Benedictine monks, 
because of their dark gowns, were called " Black Friars." 

4 The abbey. 

5 Tynemouth Priory was near the mouth of the river Tyne. A prioress 
was inferior in ecclesiastical rank to an abbess. 

6 "A chapter," etc., i.e., a council of the Order of Saint Benedict. 



44 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

As yet a novice unprofessed, 1 
Lovely and gentle, but distressed. 
She was betrothed to one now dead, 
Or worse, who had dishonored fled. 
Her kinsmen bade her give her hand 
To one who loved her for her land : 
Herself, almost heartbroken now, 
Was bent 2 to take the vestal 3 vow, 
And shroud within Saint Hilda's gloom 
Her blasted hopes and withered bloom. 

VI. 

She sate upon the galley's 4 prow, 
And seemed to mark the waves below ; 
Nay, seemed, so fixed her look and eye, 
To count them as they glided by. 
She saw them not — 'twas seeming all — 
Far other scene her thoughts recall, — 
A sun-scorched desert, waste and bare, 
Nor waves nor breezes murmured there ; 
There saw she where some careless hand 
O'er a dead corpse had heaped the sand, 
To hide it till the jackals come 
To tear it from the scanty tomb. 
See what a woeful look was given, 
As she raised up her eyes to heaven! 

VII. 

Lovely, and gentle, and distressed, — 
These charms might tame the fiercest breast : 

1 That is, she had not as yet taken the vow, though she had entered the 
convent. 

2 Resolved. 3 See Glossary. 

4 Technically, a ship driven by oars, or by oars and sails ; here used in the 
general sense of " vessel." 



ii.] M ARM I ON. 45 

Harpers have sung, and poets told, 

That he, in fury uncontrolled, 

The shaggy monarch of the wood, 

Before a virgin, 1 fair and good, 

Hath pacified his savage mood. 

But passions in the human frame 

Oft put the lion's rage to shame ; 

And jealousy, by dark intrigue, 

With sordid avarice in league, 

Had practiced with their bowl 2 and knife 

Against the mourner's harmless life. 

This crime was charged 'gainst those who lay 

Prisoned in Cuthbert's islet gray. 

VIII. 

And now the vessel skirts the strand 
Of mountainous Northumberland ; 
Towns, towers, and halls successive rise, 
And catch the nuns' delighted eyes. 
Monk-Wearmouth 3 soon behind them lay, 
And Tynemouth's priory and bay ; 
They marked amid her trees the hall 
Of lofty Seaton-Delaval; 4 
They saw the Blythe 5 and Wansbeck 5 floods 
Rush to the sea through sounding woods ; 
They passed the tower of Widderington, 6 
Mother of many a valiant son ; 

1 Alluding to Spenser's Una, whose beauty so enthralled a lion that he 
became her guide and protector. 

2 Poison. 

3 A monastery, founded 674, near the mouth of the river Wear. 

4 The home of the family of Delaval. 

5 A river of northern England, flowing into the North Sea. 

6 A noted castle of which only one tower remains. Compare ballad of 
Chevy Chase. 



4 6 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

At Coquet-isle 1 their beads they tell 

To the good saint who owned the cell ; 

Then did the Alne 2 attention claim, 

And Warkworth, 3 proud of Percy's name ; 

And next they crossed themselves to hear 

The whitening breakers sound so near, 

Where, boiling through the rocks, they roar 

On Dunstanborough's 4 caverned shore; 

Thy tower, proud Bamborough, 5 marked they there, 

King Ida's castle, huge and square, 

From its tall rock look grimly down, 

And on the swelling ocean frown ; 

Then from the coast they bore away, 

And reached the Holy Island's bay. 

IX. 

The tide did now its flood mark gain, 
And girdled in the Saint's domain ; 
For, with the flow and ebb, its style 
Varies from continent to isle : 6 
Dry-shod, o'er sands, twice every day 
The pilgrims to the shrine find way ; 
Twice every day the waves efface 
Of staves and sandaled feet the trace. 
As to the port the galley flew, 

1 A small island near the mouth of the Coquet River. On it are the ruins 
of a cell or monastery. 

2 The Alne River, a little north of Coquet. 

3 A castle on the Alne River, near its mouth, and owned by the Percys 
in the middle ages, now the seat of the Duke of Northumberland. 

4 The shore in the neighborhood of this castle's ruins is stern and cavern- 
ous ; and in stormy weather the sea rushes through an orifice, "Rumble 
Churn," with great violence. 

5 A castle erected on the site of a Saxon fortress, about the middle of the 
sixth century, by Ida, King of Northumberland. 

6 That is, an island at high water, and part of the mainland at low water. 



ii.] M ARM ION. 47 

Higher and higher rose to view 
The castle with its battled walls, 
The ancient monastery's halls, 
A solemn, huge, and dark-red pile, 
Placed on the margin of the isle. 

x. 

In Saxon strength 1 that abbey frowned, 
With massive arches broad and round, 

That rose alternate, row and row, 

On ponderous columns, short and low, 
Built ere the art was known, 

By pointed .aisle 2 and shafted stalk, 3 

The arcades 4 of an alleyed walk 
To emulate in stone. 
On the deep walls the heathen Dane 5 
Had poured his impious rage in vain ; 
And needful was such strength to these, 
Exposed to the tempestuous seas, 
Scourged by the winds' eternal sway, 
Open to rovers fierce as they, 
Which could twelve hundred years withstand 
Winds, waves, and northern pirates' hand. 
Not but that portions of the pile, 
Rebuilded in a later style, 

1 In Saxon architecture the arches (semicircles) were supported by short 
heavy columns which gave the structure great strength. Pointed arches 
characterized the Gothic architecture. 

2 Aisles are the side divisions of a church, separated from the nave by 
rows of columns. Here used in the sense of " arch," referring to the pointed 
arch supports of the roof. 

3 Long columns like the shaft or trunk of a tree, or perhaps cluster col- 
umns with a central pillar surrounded by other columns. 

4 Arches formed by trees whose branches meet over a walk. 

5 The Danes from the eighth to the eleventh century made frequent in- 
roads on the country, crossing the North Sea from Scandinavia and Jutland. 



- 



48 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Showed where the spoiler's hand had been ; 
Not but the wasting sea breeze keen 
Had worn the pillar's carving quaint, 
And moldered in his niche the saint, 
And rounded with consuming power 
The pointed angles of each tower ; 
Yet still entire the abbey stood, 
Like veteran, worn, but unsubdued. 

XI. 

Soon as they neared his 1 turrets strong, 
The maidens raised Saint Hilda's song, 
And with the sea wave and the wind 
Their voices, sweetly shrill, combined, 

And made harmonious close ; 2 
Then, answering from the sandy shore, 
Half-drowned amid the breakers' roar, 

According 3 chorus rose: 
Down to the haven of the Isle, 
The monks and nuns in order file 

From Cuthbert's cloisters 4 grim; 
Banner, and cross, and relics there, 
To meet Saint Hilda's maids, they bare ; 
And, as they caught the sounds on air, 

They echoed back the hymn. 
The islanders, in joyous mood, 
Rushed emulously through the flood 

To hale 5 the bark to land ; 
Conspicuous by her veil and hood, 

1 Saint Cuthbert's. 

2 In music, the' technical word for the ending of a strain. 

3 A chorus that accorded or harmonized. The idea seems to be that the 
song of the monks and nuns singing at the Lindisfarne monastery accorded 
or harmonized with the singing of the nuns on the galley. 

4 See Glossary. 5 Haul. 



ii.] MARMION. 49 

Signing 1 the cross, the Abbess stood, 
And blessed them with her hand. 



XII. 

Suppose 2 we now the welcome said, 
Suppose the convent banquet made : 

All through the holy dome, 
Through cloister, aisle, and gallery, 3 
Wherever vestal maid might pry, 
Nor risk to meet unhallowed eye, 

The stranger sisters roam ; 
Till fell the evening damp with dew, 
And the sharp sea breeze coldly blew, 
For there even summer night is chill. 
Then, having strayed and gazed their fill, 

They closed around the fire ; 
And all, in turn, essayed to paint 
The rival merits of their saint, 

A theme that ne'er can tire 
A holy maid ; for be it known 
That their saint's honor is their own. 

XIII. 

Then Whitby's nuns exulting told 
How to their house three 4 barons bold 
Must menial service do ; 

1 Making the sign of the cross. 2 Let us suppose. 3 See Glossary. 

4 According to a story about Whitby, William de Bruce, Ralph de Percy, 
and a freeholder (Allatson) were boar-hunting in a wood of the Abbot of 
Whitby. The boar fled into a hermit's chapel, and died. The huntsmen, 
enraged upon finding the boar dead, fell upon the hermit, and killed him. 
As a penalty they were compelled every Ascension Day (fortieth day after 
Easter) to do menial labor, cutting sticks, carrying them on their backs, and 
fixing them in the sands at Whitby against the tide. This ceremony was con- 
tinued by a subsequent proprietor, whose name was Herbert. 

4 



5° SIJ? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

While horns blow out a note of shame, 
And monks cry, " Fie upon your name! 
In wrath, for loss of silvan game, 

Saint Hilda's priest ye slew." — 
" This, on Ascension Day, each year, 
While laboring on our harbor-pier, 
Must Herbert, Bruce, and Percy hear." 
They told how in their convent-cell 
A Saxon princess once did dwell, 

The lovely Edelfled; 1 
And how, of thousand snakes, each one 
Was changed into a coil 2 of stone 

When holy Hilda prayed ; 
Themselves, within their holy bound, 
Their stony folds had often found. 
They told how sea fowls' 3 pinions fail, 
As over Whitby's towers they sail, 
And, sinking down, with flutterings faint, 
They do their homage to the saint. 

xiv. 

Nor did Saint Cuthbert's daughters fail 

To vie with these in holy tale ; 

His body's resting-place, of old, 

How oft 4 their patron changed, they told ; 

How, when the rude Dane burned their pile, 5 

1 Daughter of King Oswy, who dedicated her to God in "Whitby when a 
little child, in gratitude for his victory over Penda, King of Mercia. 

2 Coils of stone resembling a snake. These coils are still found in the 
vicinity of Whitby. 

3 Gulls and other birds frequently rested at Whitby after their flight over 
the water. This fact, like that of the coils of stone, is picturesquely used as 
miraculous. 

4 It is said that the body of Saint Cuthbert was frequently moved. 

5 The Danes made a descent here about 875, and burned the monastery. 



ii.] M ARM ION. 5 1 

The monks fled forth from Holy Isle ; 
O'er Northern mountain, marsh, and moor, 
From sea to sea, from shore to shore, 
Seven years Saint Cuthbert's corpse they bore. 

They rested them in fair Melrose j 1 
But though, alive, he loved it well, 

Not there his relics might repose ; 
For, wondrous tale to tell! 

In his stone coffin 2 forth he rides, 

A ponderous bark for river tides, 

Yet light as gossamer it glides 
Downward to Tilmouth 3 cell. 
Nor long was his abiding there, 
For southward did the saint repair ; 
Chester-le-Street 4 and Rippon 5 saw 
His holy corpse, ere Wardilaw 6 

Hailed him with joy and fear ; 
And, after many wanderings past, 
He chose his lordly seat at last 
Where his cathedral, huge and vast, 

Looks down upon the Wear. 7 
There, deep in Durham's 8 Gothic shade, 
His relics are in secret laid ; 

But none may know the place, 
Save of his holiest servants three, 
Deep sworn to solemn secrecy, 

Who share that wondrous grace. 9 

1 An abbey on the Tweed in Scotland. It was at Melrose that Saint Cuth- 
bert first became a monk. 

2 The legend is that it bore him down the Tweed to Tilmouth. 

3 The mouth of the Till, a river of Northumberland, tributary to the Tweed. 

4 A village on an old Roman road between Newcastle and Durham. 

5 A city in Yorkshire, on the Ure. 6 A village near Durham. 

7 A river of England upon which Durham is situated. 

8 Durham Cathedral, where Saint Cuthbert's remains now rest. 

9 That is, share the privilege of knowing his resting-place. 



52 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XV. 

Who may his miracles declare? 

Even Scotland's 1 dauntless king and heir, 

(Although with them they led 
Galwegians, 2 wild as ocean's gale, 
And Lodon's 3 knights, all sheathed in mail, 
And the bold men of Teviotdale, 4 ) 

Before his standard fled. 
'Twas he, to vindicate his reign, 
Edged 5 Alfred's falchion on the Dane, 
And turned 6 the Conqueror back again, 
When, with his Norman bowyer 7 band, 
He came to waste Northumberland. 

XVI. 

But fain Saint Hilda's nuns would learn 
If on a rock, by Lindisfarne, 
Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame 
The sea-born beads 8 that bear his name: 
Such tales had Whitby's fishers told, 

1 When David I. of Scotland, and his son, invaded Northumberland in 
1 136, the English soldiers marched against them, carrying the banner of Saint 
Cuthbert, and won the victory of Northallerton. 

2 People of Galloway, a district of southwestern Scotland. 

3 Loden or Lothian. The name was given to several counties around 
Edinburgh. 

4 The valley of the Teviot, a river in southern Scotland. 

5 It is said that Saint Cuthbert appeared to King Alfred when he hesitated 
to attack the Danes, and promised him victory. 

6 It is related that William the Conqueror, when he was proceeding against 
the revolted Northumbrians in 1096, while opening the shrine of Saint Cuth- 
bert, was suddenly seized with terror, and fled, leaving untasted a dinner which 
had been prepared for him. 

7 See Glossary. 

8 Shells found on Lindisfarne, called Saint Cuthbert's beads. 



II.] M ARM I ON. 53 

And said they might his shape behold, 

And hear his anvil sound ; 
A deadened clang, — a huge dim form, 
Seen but, and heard, when gathering storm 

And night were closing round. 
But this, as tale of idle fame, 
The nuns of Lindisfarne disclaim. 



XVII. 

While round the fire such legends go, 
Far different was the scene of woe 
Where, in a secret aisle beneath, 
Council was held of life and death. 

It was more dark and lone, that vault, 
Than the worst dungeon cell : 

Old Colwulf l built it, for his fault, 
In penitence to dwell, 
When he for cowl and beads laid down 
The Saxon battle-ax and crown. 
This den, which, chilling every sense 

Of feeling, hearing, sight, 
Was called the Vault of Penitence, 

Excluding air and light, 
Was by the prelate Sexhelm 2 made 
A place of burial for such dead 
As, having died in mortal sin, 3 
Might not be laid the church within. 
'Twas now a place of punishment ; 
Whence if so loud a shriek were sent 

As reached the upper air, 
The hearers blessed 4 themselves, and said 

1 A king of Northumberland, who became a monk in 738. 

2 Sixth bishop of Lindisfarne. 3 Willful transgression. 
4 Invoked a blessing upon. 



54 Sf£ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

The spirits of the sinful dead 
Bemoaned their torments there. 



XVIII. 

But though, in the monastic pile, 
Did of this penitential aisle 

Some vague tradition go, 
Few only, save the Abbot, knew 
Where the place lay ; and still more few 
Were those who had from him the clew 

To that dread vault to go. 
Victim and executioner 
Were blindfold when transported there. 
In low dark rounds the arches hung, 
From the rude rock the side walls sprung ; 
The gravestones, rudely sculptured o'er, 
Half sunk in earth, by time half wore, 
Were all the pavement of the floor ; 
The mildew drops fell one by one 
With tinkling plash upon the stone. 
A cresset, 1 in an iron chain, 
Which served to light this drear domain, 
With damp and darkness seemed to strive, 
As if it scarce might keep alive ; 
And yet it dimly served to show 
The awful conclave 2 met below. 

XIX. 

There, met to doom in secrecy, 
Were placed the heads of convents three, 
All servants of Saint Benedict, 
The statutes of whose order strict 
On iron table lay ; 

1 See Glossary. 2 Council. 



n.] M ARM ION. 55 

In long black dress, on seats of stone, 
Behind were these three judges shown 

By the pale cresset's ray. 
The Abbess of Saint Hilda's, there, 
Sat for a space with visage bare, 
Until, to hide her bosom's swell, 
And teardrops that for pity fell, 

She closely drew her veil : 
Yon shrouded figure, as I guess, 
By her proud mien and flowing dress, 
Is Tynemouth's haughty Prioress, 

And she with awe looks pale ; 
And he, that ancient man, whose sight 
Has long been quenched by age's night, 
Upon whose wrinkled brow alone 
Nor ruth nor mercy's trace is shown, 

Whose look is hard and stern, — 
Saint Cuthbert's Abbot is his style, 
For sanctity called through the isle 

The Saint of Lindisfarne. 



xx. 

Before them stood a guilty pair; 
But, though an equal fate they share, 
Yet one alone deserves our care. 
Her sex a page's dress belied ; 
The cloak and doublet, loosely tied, 
Obscured her charms, but could not hide. 

Her cap down o'er her face she drew; 
And, on her doublet breast, 

She tried to hide the badge of blue, 
Lord Marmion's falcon crest. 
But, at the Prioress' command, 
A monk undid the silken band 



3 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

That tied her tresses fair, 
And raised the bonnet x from her head, 
And down her slender form they spread 

In ringlets rich and rare. 
Constance de Beverley 2 they know, 
Sister professed of Fontevraud, 3 
Whom the Church numbered with the dead, 
For broken vows, and convent fled. 

xxi.— 

When thus her face was given to view, 

(Although so pallid was her hue, 

It did a ghastly contrast bear 

To those bright ringlets glistering 4 fair,) 

Her look composed, and steady eye, 

Bespoke a matchless constancy ; 

And there she stood so calm and pale, 

That, but her breathing did not fail, 

And motion slight of eye and head, 

And of her bosom, warranted 

That neither sense nor pulse she lacks, 

You might have thought a form of wax, 

Wrought to the very life, was there ; 

So still she was, so pale, so fair. 

XXII. 

Her comrade was a sordid soul, 

Such as does murder for a meed j 1 
Who, but of fear, knows no control, 
Because his conscience, seared and foul, 

Feels not the import of his deed ; 

1 See Glossary. 2 The page of Marmion (see Canto I. xv.). 

3 An abbey situated on the Loire in France, changed into a prison. 

4 Glistening. 



n.] M ARM I ON. 57 

One whose brute feeling ne'er aspires 
Beyond his own more brute desires. 
Such tools the Tempter ever needs 
To do the savagest of deeds ; 
For them no visioned terrors daunt, 
Their nights no fancied specters haunt ; 
One fear with them, of all most base, — 
The fear of death, — alone finds place. 
This wretch was clad in frock and cowl, 
And shamed not loud to moan and howl, 
His body on the floor to dash, 
And crouch, like hound beneath the lash ; 
While his mute partner, standing near, 
Waited her doom without a tear. 



XXIII. 

Yet well the luckless wretch might shriek, 
Well might her paleness terror speak! 
For there were seen in that dark wall 
Two niches, 1 narrow, deep, and tall ; — 
Who enters at such grisly 2 door 
Shall ne'er, I ween, find exit more. 
In each a slender meal was laid, 
Of roots, of water, and of bread ; 
By each, in Benedictine dress, 
Two haggard monks stood motionless, 
Who, holding high a blazing torch, 
Showed the grim entrance of the porch ; 
Reflecting back the smoky beam, 
The dark-red walls and arches gleam. 
Hewn stones and cement were displayed, 
And building tools in order laid. 

1 Nuns who broke their vows were entombed alive in small niches just 
large enough to inclose their bodies. 2 Frightful. 



58 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XXIV. 

These executioners were chose * 
As men who were with mankind foes, 
And, with despite 2 and envy fired, 
Into the cloister had retired, 

Or who, in desperate doubt of grace, 3 

Strove by deep penance to efface 
Of some foul crime the stain ; 

For, as the vassals of her will, 

Such men the Church 4 selected still 

As either joyed in doing ill, 
Or thought more grace to gain 
If in her cause they wrestled down 
Feelings their nature strove to own. 
By strange device were they brought there, 
They knew not how, and knew not where. 

XXV. 

And now that blind old Abbot rose, 

To speak the Chapter's doom 
On those the wall was to inclose 

Alive within the tomb, 
But stopped because that woeful maid, 
Gathering her powers, to speak essayed. 
Twice she essayed, and twice in vain ; 
Her accents might no utterance gain ; 
Naught but imperfect murmurs slip 
From her convulsed and quivering lip ; 

'Twixt each attempt all was so still, 

You seemed to hear a distant rill — 
'Twas ocean's swells and falls ; 

1 Chosen. 2 Bitter feeling. 

3 Pardon. 4 Roman Catholic Church. 



ii.] M ARM I ON. 59 

For though this vault of sin and fear 
Was to the sounding surge so near, 
A tempest there you scarce could hear, 
So massive were the walls. 



XXVI. 

At length an effort sent apart 

The blood that curdled to her heart, 

And light came to her eye, 
And color dawned upon her cheek, — 
A hectic 1 and a fluttered 2 streak, 
Like that left on the Cheviot peak 

By autumn's stormy sky ; 
And when her silence broke at length, 
Still as she spoke she gathered strength, 

And armed 3 herself to bear. 
It was a fearful sight to see 
Such high resolve and constancy 

In form so soft and fair. 

XXVII. 

" I speak not to implore your grace, 
Well know I for one minute's space 

Successless 4 might I sue: 5 
Nor do I speak your prayers to gain ; 
For if a death of lingering pain 
To cleanse my sins be penance vain, 

Vain are your masses too. — 
I listened to a traitor's tale, 
I left the convent and the veil ; 6 
For three long years I bowed my pride, 
A horse-boy 6 in his train to ride; 

1 Fevered. 2 Irregular ; fluctuating. 3 Nerved. 

4 Without success. 5 Plead. 6 See Glossary. 



60 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And well my folly's meed he gave, 
Who forfeited, to be his slave, 
All here, and all beyond the grave.— 
He saw young Clara's face more fair, 
He knew her of broad lands the heir, 
Forgot his vows, his faith forswore, 
And Constance was beloved no more. — 
'Tis an old tale, and often told ; 

But did my fate and wish agree, 
Ne'er had been read, in story old, 
Of maiden true betrayed for gold, 
That loved, or was avenged, like me. 

XXVIII. 

" The King approved his favorite's aim ; 
In vain a rival barred his claim, 

Whose fate with Clare's was plight, 
For he attaints 2 that rival's fame 
With treason's charge — and on they came 

In mortal lists to fight. 
Their oaths 2 are said, 
Their prayers are prayed, 
Their lances in the rest are laid, 

They meet in mortal shock ; 
And, hark! the throng, with thundering cry, 
Shout ' Marmion, Marmion! to the sky, 

De Wilton 3 to the block! ' 
Say, ye who preach Heaven shall decide 
When in the lists two champions ride — 

Say, was Heaven's justice here, 
When, loyal in his love and faith, 

1 Stains. 

2 Before engaging in combat, contestants took oath that their cause was 
just. '* See Canto I. xii. 



ii.] M ARM ION. 6 1 

Wilton found overthrow or death 

Beneath a traitor's spear? 
How false the charge,' how true he fell, 
This guilty packet best can tell." 
Then drew a packet from her breast, 
Paused, gathered voice, and spoke, the rest. 

XXIX. 

" Still was false Marmion's bridal stayed ; 
To Whitby's convent fled the maid, 

The hated match to shun. 
* Ho! shifts 1 she thus? ' King Henry 2 cried ; 
' Sir Marmion, she shall be thy bride, 

If she were sworn a nun.' 
One way remained — the King's command 
Sent Marmion to the Scottish land : 
I lingered here, and rescue planned 

For Clara and for me : 
This caitiff 3 monk, for gold, did swear 
He would to Whitby's shrine repair, 
And by his drugs my rival fair 

A saint in heaven should be ; 
But ill the dastard kept his oath, 
Whose cowardice hath undone us both. 

XXX. 

" And now my tongue the secret tells, 
Not that remorse my bosom swells, 
But to assure my soul that none 
Shall ever wed with Marmion. 
Had fortune my last hope betrayed, 
This packet, to the King conveyed, 

1 Contrives. 2 Henry VIII., King of England 1509-47. 

3 Mean or contemptible. 



62 s/fi WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Had given him to the headsman's stroke, 
Although my heart that instant broke. — 
Now, men of death, work forth your will, 
For I can suffer, and be still ; 
And come he slow, or come he fast, 
It is but Death who comes at last. 



xxxi . 

" Yet dread me, from my living tomb, 

Ye vassal slaves of bloody Rome! 

If Marmion's late remorse should wake, 

Full soon such vengeance will he take, 

That you shall wish the fiery Dane 

Had rather been your guest again. 

Behind, 1 a darker hour ascends! 

The altars quake, the crosier 2 bends, 

The ire of a despotic 3 king 

Rides forth upon destruction's wing ; 

Then shall these vaults, so strong and deep, 

Burst open to the sea winds' sweep ; 

Some traveler then shall find my bones 

Whitening amid disjointed stones, 

And, ignorant of priests' cruelty, 

Marvel such relics here should be." 

xxxn. 

Fixed was her look, and stern her air : 
Back from her shoulders streamed her hair ; 
The locks that wont 4 her brow to shade 
Stared 5 up erectly from her head; 

1 Behind the present ; that is, in the near future. 2 See Glossary. 

3 A reference to the great rupture inaugurated by Henry VIII. between 
the English Church and the Church of Rome. 

4 Were accustomed. 6 Stood. 



ii.] MARMION. 63 

Her figure seemed to rise more high ; 

Her voice, despair's wild energy 

Had given a tone of prophecy. 

Appalled the astonished conclave sate ; 

With stupid eyes, the men of fate 

Gazed on the light inspired form, 

And listened for the avenging storm ; 

The judges felt the victim's dread ; 

No hand was moved, no word was said, 

Till thus the Abbot's doom was given. 

Raising his sightless balls to heaven : 

" Sister, let thy sorrows cease ; 

Sinful brother, part in peace!" 1 

From that dire dungeon, place of doom, 
Of execution too, and tomb, 

Paced forth the judges three ; 
Sorrow it were, and shame, to tell 
The butcher work that there befell, 
When they had glided from the cell 
Of sin and misery. 

XXXIII. 

An hundred winding steps convey 
That conclave to the upper day ; 
But, ere they breathed the fresher air, 
They heard the shriekings of despair, 

And many a stifled groan. 
With speed their upward way they take, 
(Such speed as age and fear can make,) 
And crossed themselves for terror's sake, 

As hurrying, tottering on : 
Even in the vesper's 2 heavenly tone 

1 " Part in peace! " The formula was Vade in pace?n, and was the sen- 
tence used to pronounce doom upon the vestal virgins. 2 See Glossary. 



64 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

They seemed to hear a dying groan, 
And bade the passing knell 1 to toll 
For welfare of a parting soul. 
Slow o'er the midnight wave it swung, 
Northumbrian rocks in answer rung ; 
To Warkworth cell the echoes rolled, 
His beads the wakeful hermit told ; 
The Bamborough peasant raised his head, 
But slept ere half a prayer he said ; 
So far was heard the mighty knell, 
The stag sprung up on Cheviot Fell, 2 
Spread his broad nostril to the wind, 
Listed before, aside, behind, 
Then couched him down beside the hind, 
And quaked among the mountain fern, 
To hear that sound, so dull and stern. 



CANTO THIRD. 

THE HOSTEL, OR INN. 



THE livelong day Lord Marmion rode ; 
The mountain path the Palmer showed 
By glen and streamlet winded still, 
Where stunted birches hid the rill. 
They might not choose the lowland road, 
For the Merse 3 forayers were abroad, 
Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey, 

1 A bell rung for the passing of the soul from the body in death. 

2 See Glossary. 

3 The marshy, fertile part of Berwickshire bordering on the Tweed. 



in.] M ARM I ON. 65 

Had scarcely failed to bar their way. 

Oft on the trampling band, from crown 

Of some tall cliff, the deer looked down ; 

On wing of jet, from his repose 

In the deep heath, the blackcock 1 rose ; 

Sprung from the gorse 1 the timid roe, 

Nor waited for the bending bow ; 

And when the stony path began, 

By which the naked peak they wan, 2 

Up flew the snowy ptarmigan. 1 

The noon had long been passed before 

They gained the height of Lammermoor ; 3 

Thence winding down the northern way, 

Before them, at the close of day, 

Old Gifford's towers and hamlet 4 lay. 

11. 

No summons calls them to the tower, 5 

To spend the hospitable hour. 

To Scotland's camp the lord was gone ; 

His cautious dame, in bower alone, 

Dreaded her castle to unclose, 

So late, to unknown friends or foes. 
On through the hamlet as they paced, 
Before a porch whose front was graced 
With bush 6 and flagon trimly placed, 
Lord Marmion drew his rein : 

1 See Glossary. 2 An old past tense of " win." 

3 A range of hills twenty miles north of the English Border. 

4 A village in Haddington at the foot of the Lammermoor hills. 

5 Yester House, or Gifford Castle, the home of the Marquis of Tweed- 
dale. The towers in the previous stanza refer to the ruins of an old castle 
belonging to the marquis's ancestors. 

6 The sign of an inn ; usually an ivy branch, because ivy was sacred to 
Bacchus, the god of wine. 

5 



66 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

The village inn seemed large, though rude ; 

Its cheerful fire and hearty food 
Might well relieve his train. 
Down from their seats the horsemen sprung, 
With jingling spurs the courtyard rung ; 
They bind their horses to the stall, 
For forage, food, and firing : call, 
And various clamor fills the hall : 
Weighing the labor with the cost, 
Toils everywhere the bustling host. 

in. 

Soon, by the chimney's merry blaze, 
Through the rude hostel might you gaze ; 
Might see where, in dark nook aloof, 
The rafters of the sooty roof 

Bore wealth of winter cheer ; 2 
Of sea fowl dried, and solands a store, 
And gammons 3 of the tusky boar, 

And savory haunch of deer. 
The chimney arch projected wide ; 
Above, around it, and beside, 

Were tools for housewives' hand ; 
Nor wanted, in that martial day, 
The implements of Scottish fray, 

The buckler, lance^and brand. 
Beneath its shade, the place of state, 
On oaken settle Marmion sate, 
And viewed around the blazing hearth. 
His followers mix in noisy mirth ; 
Whom with brown ale, in jolly tide, 
From ancient vessels ranged aside, 
Full actively their host supplied. 

1 Preparation of a fire to warm them. 2 Provisions. 3 See Glossary. 



in.] MARMION. 67 

IV. 

Theirs was the glee of martial breast, 
And laughter theirs at little jest ; 
And oft Lord Marmion deigned to aid, 
And mingle in the mirth they made ; 
For though, with men of high degree, 
The proudest of the proud was he, 
Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art 
To win the soldier's hardy heart. 
They love a captain to obey, 
Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May ; 
With open hand, and brow as free, 
Lover of wine and minstrelsy ; 
Ever the first to scale a tower, 
As venturous in a lady's bower: 1 — 
Such buxom chief shall lead his host 
From India's fires to Zembla's 2 frost. 



Resting upon his pilgrim staff, 

Right opposite the Palmer stood ; 
His thin dark visage seen but half, 

Half hidden by his hood. 
Still fixed on Marmion was his look, 
Which he, who ill such gaze could brook, 

Strove by a frown to quell ; 
But not for that, though more than once 
Full met their stern encountering glance, 

The Palmer's visage fell. 

1 See Glossary. 

2 Nova Zembla (Russian, Novaya Zemlya, " New Land"), islands in the 
Arctic Ocean north of Russia. 



68 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 



VI. 

By fits less frequent from the crowd 
Was heard the burst of laughter loud ; 
For still, as squire and archer stared 
On that dark face and matted beard, 

Their glee and game declined. 
All gazed at length in silence drear, 
Unbroke save when in comrade's ear 
Some yeoman, wondering in his fear, 

Thus whispered forth his mind : 
"Saint Mary! saw'st thou e'er such sight? 
How pale his cheek, his eye how bright, 
Whene'er the firebrand's fickle l light 

Glances beneath his cowl! 
Full on our lord he sets his eye ; 
For his best palfrey would not I 

Endure that sullen scowl." 

VII. 

But Marmion, as to chase 2 the - awe 
Which thus had quelled their hearts who saw 
The ever-varying firelight show 
That figure stern, and face of woe, 

Now called upon a squire : 
" Fitz-Eustace, know'st thou not some lay, 
To speed the lingering night away? 

We slumber by the fire." 

VIII. 

" So please you," thus the youth rejoined, 
" Our choicest minstrel's left behind. 
Ill may we hope to please your ear, 

Varying. 2 " As to chase," i.e., as if to chase away. 



III.] M ARM ION. 69 

Accustomed Constant's 1 strains to hear. 
The harp full deftly can he strike, 
And wake the lover's lute alike ; 
To dear Saint Valentine 2 no thrush 
Sings livelier from a springtide bush, 
No nightingale her lovelorn tune 
More sweetly warbles to the moon. 3 
Woe to the cause, whate'er it be, 
Detains from us his melody, 
Lavished on rocks, and billows stern, 
Or duller monks of Lindisfarne. 
Now must I venture as I may, 
To sing his favorite roundelay." 4 

IX. 

A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had, 
The air he chose was wild and sad ; 
Such have I heard, in Scottish land, 
Rise from the busy harvest band, 
When falls before the mountaineer, 
On lowland plains, the ripened ear. 
Now one shrill voice the notes prolong, 
Now a wild chorus swells the song : 
Oft have I listened and stood still 
As it came softened up the hill, 
And deemed it the lament of men 
Who languished for their native glen, 
And thought how sad would be such sound 
On Susquehanna's swampy ground, 
Kentucky's wood-encumbered brake, 4 

1 The name by which. Constance de Beverley passed when acting as a page. 

2 On Saint Valentine's Day (Feb. 14) birds were supposed to pair. 

3 The nightingale sings only at night. 4 See Glossary. 

5 At harvest time the Scottish Highlanders went down to the Lowlands 
to work for hire. 



7° SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Or wild Ontario's boundless lake, 
Where heartsick exiles, 1 in the strain, 
Recalled fair Scotland's hills again! 

x. 

SONG. 

Where shall the lover rest, 

Whom the fates sever 
From his true maiden's breast, 

Parted forever? 
Where, through groves deep and high, 

Sounds the far billow, 
Where early violets die, 

Under the willow. 

Chorus. 
Eleu loro, 2 etc. Soft shall be his pillow. 

There, through the summer day, 

Cool streams are laving ; 3 
There, while the tempests sway, 

Scarce are boughs waving ; 
There thy rest shalt thou take, 

Parted forever, 
Never again to wake, 

Never, oh, never! 

Chorus. 

Eleu loro, etc. Never, oh, never! 

1 Emigrants. 

2 Perhaps from the Italian Ela loro ("Alas to them!"). 

3 Used as if intransitive; the object, the banks of the stream, not being 
expressed. 



in.] MARMION. 71 

XI. 

Where shall the traitor rest, 

He, the deceiver, 
Who could win maiden's breast, 

Ruin and leave her? 
In the lost battle, 

Borne down by the flying, 
Where mingles war's rattle 

With groans of the dying. 

Chorus. 
Eleu loro, etc. There shall he be lying. 

Her wing shall the eagle flap 

O'er the false-hearted ; 
His warm blood the wolf shall lap, 

Ere life be parted. 
Shame and dishonor sit 

By his grave ever ; 
Blessing shall hallow it, — 

Never, oh, never! 

Chorus. 
Eleu loro, etc. Never, oh, never! 

XII. 

It ceased, the melancholy sound, 
And silence sunk on all around. 
The air was sad ; but sadder still 

It fell on Marmion's ear, 
And plained x as if disgrace and ill, 

1 Complained ; wailed. 



72 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And shameful death, were near. 
He drew his mantle past his face, 

Between it and the band, 
And rested with his head a space, 

Reclining on his hand. 
His thoughts I scan not ; but I ween, 
That, could their import have been seen, 
The meanest groom in all the hall, 
That e'er tied courser to a stall, 
Would scarce have wished to be their prey 
For Lutterward and Fontenaye. 

XIII. 

High minds, of native pride and force, 
Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse! 
Fear for their scourge mean villains have, 
Thou art the torturer of the brave! 
Yet fatal 1 strength they boast to steel 
Their minds to bear the wounds they feel, 
Even while they writhe beneath the smart 
Of civil conflict 2 in the heart. 
For soon Lord Marmion raised his head, 
And, smiling, to Fitz-Eustace said, 
" Is it not strange, that, as ye sung, 
Seemed in mine ear a death peal 3 rung, 
Such as in nunneries they toll 
For some departing sister's soul? 

Say, what may this portend?" 4 
Then first the Palmer silence broke, 
(The livelong day he had not spoke,) 

" The death of a dear friend." 5 

1 Fatal, because hardened against future repentance. 

2 Strife between Marmion's pride and his better nature. 

3 See Canto II. xxxiii. 4 Imply; foretell. 

5 A tinkling in the ears was thought to intimate the death of a friend. 



in.] M ARM I ON. 73 



XIV. 

Marmion, whose steady heart and eye 
Ne'er changed in worst extremity ; 
Marmion, whose soul could scantly brook 
Even from his King a haughty look, 
Whose accent of command controlled 
In camps the boldest of the bold, — 
Thought, look, and utterance failed him now, 
Fall'n was his glance, and flushed his brow : 

For either in the tone, 
Or something in the Palmer's look, 
So full upon his conscience strook, 1 

That answer he found none. 
Thus oft it haps, that when within 
They shrink at sense of secret sin, 

A feather daunts the brave ; 
A fool's wild speech confounds the wise, 
And proudest princes vail 2 their eyes 

Before their meanest slave. 

xv. 

Well might he falter! By his aid 
Was Constance Beverley betrayed. 
Not that he augured of 3 the doom 
Which on the living closed the tomb ; 
But, tired to hear the desperate maid 
Threaten by turns, beseech, upbraid, 
And wroth because in wild despair 
She practiced on 4 the life of Clare, 

1 An old past tense of " strike." 

2 Drop ; cast down. 

3 " Augured of," i.e., imagined or guessed. 

4 " Practiced on," i.e., plotted against. 



74 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Its fugitive the Church he gave, 
Though not a victim, but a slave, 
And deemed restraint in convent strange 
Would hide her wrongs and her revenge. 1 
Himself, proud Henry's favorite peer, 
Held Romish thunders 2 idle fear ; 
Secure his pardon he might hold 
For some slight mulct 3 of penance-gold. 
Thus judging, he gave secret way, 4 
When the stern priests surprised their prey. 
His train but deemed the favorite page 
Was left behind to spare his age ; 
Or other if they deemed, 5 none dared 
To mutter what he thought and heard : 
Woe to the vassal who durst pry 
Into Lord Marmion's privacy! 

XVI. 

His conscience slept — he deemed her well, 
And safe secured in distant cell ; 
But, wakened 6 by her favorite lay, 
And that strange Palmer's boding say, 7 
That fell so ominous and drear 
Full on the. object 8 of his fear, 
To aid remorse's venomed throes, 
Dark tales of convent vengeance rose ; 

1 " Would hide," etc., i.e., prevent her taking revenge. 

2 That is, excommunication, which was the penalty for enticing a nun 
from a convent. 

3 Latin, m?ilcta, ninlta (" a penalty"). 

4 " Gave secret way," i.e., made no resistance. 

5 That is, if they deemed Constant other than a page. 

6 His conscience wakened. 

7 " Boding say," i.e., foreboding remark. 

8 Constance's death. 



ill.] MARMION. 75 

And Constance, late betrayed and scorned, 
All lovely on his soul returned ; 
Lovely as when at treacherous call 
She left her convent's peaceful wall, 
Crimsoned with shame, with terror mute, 
Dreading alike escape, pursuit, 
Till love, victorious o'er alarms, 
Hid fears and blushes in his arms. 



XVII. 

"Alas!" he thought, "how changed that mien! 

How changed these timid looks have been, 

Since years of guilt and of disguise 

Have steeled her brow, and armed her eyes! 

No more of virgin terror speaks 

The blood that mantles 1 in her cheeks : 

Fierce 2 and unfeminine 2 are there, 

Frenzy for joy, for grief despair; 

And I the cause — for whom were given 

Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven! — 

Would," thought he, as the picture grows, 

" I on its stalk had left the rose ! 

Oh, why should man's success remove 

The very charms that wake his love? 

Her convent's peaceful solitude 

Is now a prison harsh and rude ; 

And, pent within the narrow cell, 

How will her spirit chafe and swell! 

How brook the stern monastic laws! 

The penance how — and I the cause ! — 

Vigil and scourge, perchance even worse!" 

1 Covers like a mantle. 

2 These two adjectives modify " looks " understood, of which " frenzy" 
and " despair " are explanatory. 



76 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And twice he rose to cry, •' To horse! " 
And twice his sovereign's mandate 1 came, 
Like damp upon a kindling flame ; 
And twice he thought, " Gave I not charge 
She should be safe, though not at large ? 2 
They durst not, for their island, shred 3 
One golden ringlet from her head." 

XVIII. 

While thus in Marmion's bosom strove 

Repentance and reviving love, 

Like vvhirTwinds, whose contending sway 

I've seen Loch Vennachar 4 obey, 

Their host the Palmer's speech had heard, 

And, talkative, took up the word : 

"Ay, reverend pilgrim, you who stray 
From Scotland's simple land away, 

To visit realms afar, 
Full often learn the art 5 to know 
Of future weal or future woe, 

By word, or sign, or star ; 
Yet might a knight his fortune hear, 
If, knight-like, he despises fear, 
Not far from hence ; — if fathers old 
Aright our hamlet legend told." 
These broken words the menials move, 
(For marvels still the vulgar love,) 

1 The recollection of his mission for the King checks Marmion as he rises 
to carry out his impulse to rescue Constance. 

2 " At large," i.e., at liberty. 

3 See Glossary. 

4 An enlargement of the Teith River, three miles and a half long, in 
Perthshire, central Scotland, and two miles and a half southwest of Callan- 
der. Scott describes the scenery of this district in the Lady of the Lake. 

5 Astrology. 



III.] MARMION. 77 

And, Marmion giving license cold, 
His tale the host thus gladly told : — 

XIX. 
THE HOST'S TALE. 

" A clerk 1 could tell what years have flown 

Since Alexander 2 filled our throne, 

(Third monarch of that warlike name,) 

And eke * the time when here he came 

To seek Sir Hugo, 3 then our lord : 

A braver never drew a sword ; 

A wiser never, at the hour 

Of midnight, spoke the word of power; 4 

The same whom ancient records call 

The founder of the Goblin-Hall. 5 

I would, Sir Knight, your longer stay 

Gave you 6 that cavern to survey. 

Of lofty roof and ample size, 

Beneath the castle deep it lies : 

To hew the living 7 rock profound, 

The floor to pave, the arch to round, 

There never toiled a mortal arm, 

It all was wrought by word and charm ; 

And I have heard my grandsire say 

That the wild clamor and affray 

Of those dread artisans of hell, 

1 See Glossary. 

2 Alexander III. (1241-86), King of Scotland at the age of nine, and, 
according to Scott, " the last Scottish king of pure Celtic blood." 

3 Lord Gifford, owner of the old castle of Yester. 

4 " Word of power," i.e., magical word. 

5 A large vault under the old Yester Castle, called Bo-Hall or Hobgoblin- 
Hall on account of its supposed magical origin. 

6 " Gave you," i.e., gave you opportunity. 7 Unquarried. 



7 8 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Who labored under Hugo's spell, 
Sounded as loud as ocean's war 
Among the caverns of Dunbar. 



xx. 

" The King Lord Gifford's castle sought, 

Deep laboring with uncertain thought. 

Even then he mustered all his host, 

To meet upon the western coast ; 

For Norse 1 and Danish galleys 2 plied 

Their oars within the Frith of Clyde. 3 

There floated Haco's 4 banner trim 

Above Norweyan 5 warriors grim, 

Savage of heart, and large of limb, 

Threatening both continent and isle, 

Bute, 6 Arran, 6 Cunninghame, 7 and Kyle. 7 

Lord Gifford, deep beneath the ground, 8 

Heard Alexander's bugle sound, 

And tarried not his garb to change, 

But in his wizard habit strange 

Came forth, — a quaint and fearful sight : 

His mantle lined with fox skins white ; 

His high and wrinkled forehead bore 

A pointed cap, such as of yore 

Clerks say that Pharaoh's magi 2 wore ; 

His shoes were marked with cross and spell ; 2 

1 Scandinavian. 2 See Glossary. 

3 A river in southwestern Scotland. The wide opening at the mouth of 
a river is called a " frith " or " firth." 

4 King of Norway, who in 1263 made a descent on Scotland at Largs, in 
Ayrshire. He was defeated by Alexander III., and retreated to the Orkneys, 
where he died. 

5 Norwegian. 6 An island in the Frith of Clyde. 

7 A division of Ayr County, southwestern Scotland. 

8 In Hobgoblin- Hall. 



hi.] M ARM I ON. 79 

Upon his breast a pentacle j 1 
His zone, 1 of virgin 2 parchment thin, 
Or, as some tell, of dead man's skin, 
Bore many a planetary sign, 
Combust, 1 and retrograde, 1 and trine; 1 
And in his hand he held prepared 
A naked sword without a guard. 

XXI. 

" Dire dealings with the fiendish race 
Had marked strange lines upon his face ; 
Vigil and fast had worn him grim, 
His eyesight dazzled seemed and dim, 
As one unused to upper day ; 
Even his own menials with dismay 
Beheld, Sir Knight, the grisly sire x 
In his unwonted wild attire ; 
Unwonted, for traditions run, 
He seldom thus beheld the sun. — 
1 1 know,' he said, — his voice was hoarse, 
And broken seemed its hollow force, — 
' I know the cause, although untold, 
Why the King seeks his vassal's hold : 
Vainly from me my liege would know 
His kingdom's future weal or woe ; 
But yet, if strong his arm and heart, 
His courage may do more than art. 

XXII. 

" ' Of middle air the demons proud, 
Who ride upon the racking 3 cloud, 
Can read in fixed or wandering star 
The issue of events afar, 

1 See Glossary. 2 Fresh; new. 3 Flying. 



8o SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

But still their sullen aid withhold, 

Save when by mightier force controlled. 

Such late I summoned to my hall ; 

And though so potent was the call 

That scarce the deepest nook of hell 

I deemed a refuge from the spell, 

Yet, obstinate in silence still, 

The haughty demon mocks my skill. 

But thou — who little know'st thy might 

As born upon that blessed night 1 

When yawning graves and dying groan 

Proclaimed hell's empire overthrown — 

With untaught valor shalt compel 

Response denied to magic spell.' — 

' Gramercy,' quoth our monarch free, 

1 Place him but front to front with me, 

And by this good and honored brand, 

The gift of Cceur-de-Lion's 2 hand, 

Soothly I swear, that, tide what tide, 3 

The demon shall a buffet bide.' 4 — 

His bearing bold the wizard viewed, 

And thus, well pleased, his speech renewed : 

'There spoke the blood of Malcolm! 5 — mark: 

Forth pacing hence, at midnight dark, 

The rampart seek, whose circling crown 

Crests 6 the ascent of yonder down: 7 

A southern entrance shalt thou find ; 

There halt, and there thy bugle wind, 

1 Good Friday night. Persons born on this or Christmas night were 
thought to be able to see and control spirits. 

2 The Lion Heart, Richard I., King of England 1189-99. 

3 " Tide what tide," i.e., come what may. 

4 " Buffet bide," i.e., receive a blow. 

5 Probably Malcolm III. (1024-93), called Malcolm of Canmore, the 
most famous of the four Malcolms, ancestors of Alexander. 

6 Surmounts. 7 See Glossary. 



Hi.] M ARM ION. 8 1 

And trust thine elfin foe to see 

In guise of thy worst enemy : 

Couch then thy lance, and spur thy steed — 

Upon him! and Saint George to speed! 1 

If he go down, thou soon shalt know 

Whate'er these airy sprites can show ; 

If thy heart fail thee in the strife, 

I am no warrant for thy life.' 



XXIII. 

" Soon as the midnight bell did ring, 
Alone and armed, forth rode the King 
To that old camp's deserted round. 
Sir Knight, you well might mark the mound, 
Left-hand 2 the town, — the Pictish race 3 
The trench, long since, in blood did trace ; 
The moor around is brown and bare, 
The space within is green and fair. 
The spot our village children know, 
For there the earliest wild flowers grow ; 
But woe betide the wandering wight, 4 
That treads its circle in the night! 
The breadth across, a bowshot clear, 
Gives ample space for full career : 5 
Opposed to the four points of heaven, 
By four deep gaps are 6 entrance given. 
The southernmost our monarch passed, 7 
Halted, and blew a gallant blast ; 

1 " Saint George to speed," i.e., Saint George aid thee. 

2 On the left-hand side of. 

3 " Pictish race," i.e., a race of uncertain origin, inhabiting the Highlands 
in the early history of Scotland. * Person. 

5 The tournament term for the riding of knights towards each other at full 
speed in the lists. 

6 Used for " is." 7 Passed through. 

6 



82 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And on the north, within the ring, 
Appeared the form of England's King, 1 
Who then, a thousand leagues afar, 
In Palestine waged holy war ; 
Yet arms like England's did he wield, 
Alike the leopards 2 in the shield, 
Alike his Syrian courser's 3 frame, 
The rider's length of limb the same : 
Long afterwards did Scotland know 
Fell 4 Edward was her deadliest foe. 



XXIV. 

" The vision made our monarch start, 
But soon he manned his noble heart, 
And in the first career they ran, 
The Elfin 5 Knight fell, horse and man ; 
Yet did a splinter of his lance 
Through Alexander's visor 6 glance, 
And rased 6 the skin, — a puny wound. 
The King, light leaping to the ground, 
With naked blade his phantom foe 
Compelled the future war to show. 
Of Largs 7 he saw the glorious plain, 
Where still gigantic bones remain, 

Memorial of the Danish 8 war ; 
Himself he saw, amid the field, 
On high his brandished war ax wield, 

And strike proud Haco from his car, 9 

1 Edward I., called Longshanks (1239-1307). He strove to gain control 
over Scotland, and in 1296 temporarily conquered it. 

2 The royal standard of England bears two sets of three leopards or lions 
courant (running), gold on a red ground. 

3 " Syrian courser," i.e., a steed from the Holy Land. 

4 Bloodthirsty. 5 Fairy. 6 See Glossary. 
7 See Note 4, p. 78. 8 Often used for Norse. 9 Chariot. 



Hi.] MARMION. 83 

While all around the shadowy kings 
Denmark's grim ravens x cowered their wings. 
'Tis said, that, in that awful night, 
Remoter visions 2 met his sight, 
Foreshowing future conquest far, 
When our sons' sons wage Northern war ; 
A royal city, tower and spire, 
Reddened 3 the midnight sky with fire, 
And shouting crews her navy bore 
Triumphant to the victor shore. 
Such signs may learned clerks explain — 
They pass the wit 4 of simple swain. 

xxv. 

" The joyful King turned home again, 
Headed his host, and quelled the Dane ; 
But yearly, when returned the night 
Of his strange combat with the sprite, 

His wound must bleed and smart ; 
Lord Gifford then would gibing say, 
1 Bold as ye were, my liege, ye pay 

The penance of your start.' 5 
Long since, beneath Dunfermline's 6 nave, 
King Alexander fills his grave, 

Our Lady 7 give him rest! 
Yet still the knightly spear and shield 

1 The sails and banners of the Northmen bore figures of black ravens, to 
which miraculous powers were attributed ; the belief being that they flapped 
their wings before a victory, and drooped them before a defeat. 

2 Scott refers to the taking at Copenhagen, Sept. 2, 1807, of the Danish 
fleet, which England feared France would use against her. This event oc- 
curred while he was writing Marmion. 

3 In the bombardment, Copenhagen was set on fire in several places. 

4 " Pass the wit," i.e., are beyond the knowledge. 

5 Momentary fright (first line of Stanza xxiv.). 

6 An abbey about thirteen miles from Edinburgh. 7 The Virgin Mary. 



84 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

The Elfin Warrior doth wield 

Upon the brown hill's breast ; 
And many a knight hath proved his chance 
In the charmed ring to break a lance, 

But all have foully sped ; 1 
Save two, as legends tell, and they 
Were Wallace 2 wight and Gilbert Hay. 3 — 

Gentles, my tale is said." 

XXVI. 

The quaighs 4 were deep, the liquor strong, 
And on the tale the yeoman throng 
Had 5 made a comment sage and long, 

But Marmion gave a sign : 
And with their lord the squires retire, 
The rest around the hostel fire 

Their drowsy limbs recline ; 
For pillow, underneath each head, 
The quiver and the targe 4 were laid. 
Deep slumbering on the hostel floor, 
Oppressed with toil and ale, they snore : 
The dying flame, in fitful change, 
Threw on the group its shadows strange. 

XXVII. 

Apart, and nestling in the hay 
Of a waste loft, Fitz-Eustace lay ; 
Scarce by the pale moonlight were seen 

1 " Foully sped," i.e., met mischance. 

2 William Wallace (1270-1305), a Scottish hero who for many years de- 
fended Scotland against the attacks of Edward I. He was finally taken by 
the English, and executed. 

3 One of the companions of Robert Bruce, who continued the struggle 
with England begun by Wallace. 

4 See Glossary. 5 Would have. 



Hi.] M ARM I ON. 85 

The foldings of his mantle green : 
Lightly he dreamt, as youth will dream, 
Of sport by thicket, or by stream, 
Of hawk or hound, of ring * or glove; 2 
Or, lighter yet, of lady's love. 
A cautious tread his slumber broke, 
And close beside him, when he woke, 
In moonbeam half, and half in gloom, 
Stood a tall form, with nodding plume ; 
But, ere his dagger Eustace drew, 
His master Marmion's voice he knew. 

XXVIII. 

" Fitz-Eustace! rise, — I cannot rest; 
Yon churl's wild legend haunts my breast, 
And graver thoughts have chafed my mood : 
The air must cool my feverish blood, 
And fain would I ride forth to see 
The scene of elfin chivalry. 
Arise, and saddle me my steed ; 
And, gentle Eustace, take good heed 
Thou dost not rouse these drowsy slaves ; 
I would not that the prating knaves 
Had cause for saying, o'er their ale, 
That I could credit such a tale." 
Then softly down the steps they slid ; 
Eustace the stable door undid, 
And, darkling, 3 Marmion's steed arrayed, 
While, whispering, thus the baron said : — 

XXIX. 

" Didst never, good my youth, hear tell, 
That on the hour when I was born, 

1 The tilting ring. 2 The glove was given in challenge. 

3 In the dark. 



86 SIR WALTER SCO IT. [canto 

Saint George, who graced my sire's chapelle, 1 
Down from his steed of marble fell, 

A weary wight forlorn? 
The flattering chaplains all agree, 
The champion left his steed to me. 
I would, the omen's truth to show, 
That I could meet this elfin foe! 
Blithe would I battle for the right 
To ask one question at the sprite. — 
Vain thought! for elves, if elves there be, 
An empty race, by fount or sea, 
To dashing waters dance and sing, 
Or round the green oak wheel their ring." 
Thus speaking, he his steed bestrode, 
And from the hostel slowly rode. 

XXX. 

Fitz- Eustace followed him abroad, 
And marked him pace the village road, 

And listened to his horse's tramp, 
Till, by the lessening sound, 

He judged that of the Pictish camp 
Lord Marmion sought the round. 
Wonder it seemed, in the squire's eyes, 
That one so wary held, and wise, — 
Of whom 'twas said, he scarce received 
For gospel what the Church believed, — 

Should, stirred by idle tale, 
Ride forth in silence of the night, 
As hoping half to meet a sprite, 

Arrayed in plate and mail. 
For little did Fitz-Eustace know 
That passions, in contending flow, 

1 See Glossary. 



in.] M ARM I ON. 87 

Unfix the strongest mind ; 
Weaned from doubt to doubt to flee, 
We welcome fond credulity, 

Guide confident, though blind. 

XXXI. 

Little for this Fitz-Eustace cared, 
But, patient, waited till he heard 
At distance, pricked to utmost speed, 
The foot-tramp of a flying steed 

Come townward rushing on ; 
First, dead, as if on turf it trode, 
Then, clattering on the village road, — 
In other pace than forth he yode, 1 

Returned Lord*Marmion. 
Down hastily he sprung from selle, 2 
And in his haste well-nigh he fell ; 
To the squire's hand the rein he threw, 
And spoke no word as he withdrew ; 
But yet the moonlight did betray, 
The falcon crest was soiled with clay ; 
And plainly might Fitz-Eustace see, 
By stains upon the charger's knee 
And his left side, that on the moor 
He had not kept his footing sure. 
Long musing on these wondrous signs, 
At length to rest the squire reclines, 
Broken and short ; for still, between, 
Would dreams of terror intervene : 
Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark 
The first notes of the morning lark. 

1 An obsolete past tense of "go." 

2 The French for " saddle." 



88 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 



CANTO FOURTH. 

THE CAMP. 



EUSTACE, I said, did blithely mark 
The first notes of the merry lark. 
The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew, 
And loudly Marmion's bugles blew, 
And with their light and lively call 
Brought groom and yeoman to the stall. 

Whistling they came, and free of heart, 
But soon their mood was changed ; 

Complaint was heart! on every part, 
Of something disarranged. 
Some clamored loud for armor lost ; 
Some brawled and wrangled with the host ; 
"By Becket's 1 bones," cried one, "I fear 
That some false Scot has stolen my spear! " 
Young Blount, Lord Marmion's second squire, 
Found his steed wet with sweat and mire, 
Although the rated 2 horse-boy sware 3 
Last night he dressed him sleek and fair. 
While chafed 4 the impatient squire like thunder, 
Old Hubert shouts, in fear and wonder, 
"Help, gentle Blount! help, comrades all! 
Bevis lies dying in his stall : 
To Marmion who the plight dare tell 
Of the good steed he loves so well? " 
Gaping for fear and ruth, they saw 
The charger panting on his straw ; 



1 Saint Thomas of Canterbury (see Note 7, p. 34). 

2 Berated. 3 Swore. 4 Roared or scolded loudly. 



iv.] MARMION. 89 

Till one, who would seem wisest, cried, 
" What else but evil could betide, 
With that cursed Palmer for our guide? 
Better we had through mire and bush 
Been lantern-led by Friar Rush." 1 

11. 

Fitz-Eustace, who the cause but guessed, 

Nor wholly understood, 
His comrades' clamorous plaints suppressed ; 

He knew Lord Marmion's mood. 
Him, ere he issued forth, he sought, 
And found deep plunged in gloomy thought, 

And did his tale display 
Simply, as if he knew of naught 

To cause such disarray. 
Lord Marmion gave attention cold, 
Nor marveled at the wonders told, — 
Passed them as accidents of course, 2 
And bade his clarions 3 sound to horse. 

in. 

Young Henry Blount, meanwhile, the cost 
Had reckoned with their Scottish host ; 
And, as the charge he cast 4 and paid, 
" 111 thou deservest thy hire," he said ; 
" Dost see, thou knave, my horse's plight? 
Fairies have ridden him all the night, 
And left him in a foam! 

1 Will-o'-the-wisp ; a phosphorescent light frequently seen over marshes, 
and thought to be the lantern of a mischievous spirit who led travelers from 
their paths into muddy and disagreeable places. 

2 " Of course," i.e., likely to occur. 

3 Shrill trumpets (Latin, darns, il clear "). 

4 Summed up. 



9° SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

I trust that soon a conjuring band, 
With English cross l and blazing brand, 
Shall drive the devils from this land 

To their infernal home ; 
For in this haunted den, I trow, 
All night they trampled to and fro." 
The laughing host looked on the hire, 
" Gramercy, gentle southern squire, 
And if thou comest among the rest, 
With Scottish broadsword to be blest, 
Sharp be the brand, and sure the blow, 
And short the pang to undergo." 
Here stayed their talk, for Marmion 
Gave now the signal to set on. 
The Palmer showing forth the way, 
They journeyed all the morning day. 

IV. 

The greensward way was smooth and good, 

Through Humbie's and through Saltoun's wood, 2 — 

A forest glade, which, varying still, 

Here gave a view of dale and hill, 

There narrower closed, till overhead 

A vaulted screen the branches made. 

" A pleasant path," Fitz-Eustace said ; 

" Such as where errant-knights 3 might see 

Adventures of high chivalry ; 

Might meet some damsel flying fast, 

With hair unbound, and looks aghast ; 

And smooth and level course were here, 

In her defense to break a spear. 

1 "A conjuring band," etc., i.e., an English army, bearing the cross of 
Saint George. 

2 Glades about the villages of Humbie and Saltoun, not far from Edin- 
burgh. 3 See Glossary. 



iv.] M ARM I ON. 91 

Here, too, are twilight nooks and dells ; 
And oft in such, the story tells, 
The damsel kind, from danger freed, 
Did grateful pay her champion's meed." 
He spoke to cheer Lord Marmion's mind, 
Perchance to show his lore designed ; 

For Eustace much had pored 
Upon a huge romantic tome, 1 
In the hall window of his home, 
Imprinted at the antique dome 

Of Caxton 2 or De Worde. 3 
Therefore he spoke, — but spoke in vain, 
For Marmion answered naught again. 



Now sudden, distant trumpets shrill, 
In notes prolonged by wood and hill, 

Were heard to echo far ; 
Each ready archer grasped his bow, 
But by the flourish 4 soon they know 

They breathed no point of war. 5 
Yet cautious, as in foeman's land, 
Lord Marmion's order speeds the band 

Some opener ground to gain ; 
And scarce a furlong had they rode, 
When thinner trees, receding, showed 

A little woodland plain. 
Just in that advantageous glade 
The halting troop a line had made, 

1 Book. 

2 William Caxton, who introduced the art of printing into England be- 
tween 1471 and 1477. 

3 Wynkin de Worde, who came from Germany with Caxton, was associated 
with him, and carried on the work after his death. 

4 The trumpet call. 5 " Point of war," i.e., signal for attack. 



9 2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

As forth from the opposing shade 
Issued a gallant train. 



VI. 

First came the trumpets, 1 at whose clang 
So late the forest echoes rang ; 
On prancing steeds they forward pressed, 
With scarlet mantle, azure vest ; 
Each at his trump a banner wore, 
Which Scotland's royal scutcheon bore : 
Heralds and pursuivants, 2 by name 
Bute, Islay, Marchmount, Rothsay, came, 
In painted tabards, proudly showing 
Gules, 2 argent, 2 or, 2 and azure 2 glowing, 

Attendant on a king-at-arms, 2 . 
Whose hand the armorial truncheon 2 held, 
That feudal strife had often quelled, 

When wildest its alarms. 

VII. 

He was a man of middle age ; 
In aspect manly, grave, and sage, 

As on King's errand come ; 
But in the glances of his eye, 
A penetrating, keen, and sly 

Expression found its home ; 
The flash of that satiric 3 rage, 
Which, bursting on the early stage, 
Branded the vices of the age, 

And broke the keys of Rome. 4 

1 Trumpeters. 2 See Glossary. 

3 Sir David Lindesay, Lord Lion King-at-arms, wrote a play called 
"The Satyre of Three Estates," in which he exposed the abuses of the 
Church. 

4 " Keys of Rome," i.e., power of the Roman Catholic Church. 






iv.] M ARM ION. 93 

On milk-white palfrey forth he paced ; 
His cap 1 of maintenance was graced 

With the proud heron plume. 
From his steed's shoulder, loin, and breast, 

Silk housings swept the ground, 
With Scotland's arms, 2 device, 1 and crest, 

Embroidered round and round. 
The double tressure 1 might you see, 

First by Achaius 3 borne, 
The thistle 4 and the fleur-de-lis, 5 
And gallant unicorn. 1 
So bright the King's armorial coat, 
That scarce the dazzled eye could note, 
In living colors, blazoned 6 brave, 
The Lion, which his title gave ; 
A train, which well beseemed his state, 
But all unarmed, around him wait. 
Still is thy name in high account, 
And still thy verse has charms, 
Sir David Lindesay of the Mount, 7 
Lord Lion King-at-arms ! 

VIII. 

Down from his horse did Marmion spring 
Soon as he saw the Lion-King ; 
For well the stately baron knew 
To him such courtesy was due, 

1 See Glossary. 2 Coat of arms. 

3 A mythical king of Scotland, to whom Charlemagne is said to have 
given permission to put on the arms of Scotland (the double tressure and 
fleur-de-lis) in memory of an alliance. 

4 Emblem of Scotland, supposed to have been established by Achaius. 

5 Emblem of France. 6 Adorned with figures of heraldry. 

7 An estate in the town of Cupar-Fife (north of Edinburgh), the supposed 
birthplace of Lindesay. 



94 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Whom royal James 1 himself had crowned, 2 
And on his temples placed the round 

Of Scotland's ancient diadem, 
And wet his brow with hallowed wine, 
And on- his finger given to shine 

The emblematic gem. 
Their mutual greetings duly made, 
The Lion thus his message said : 
" Though Scotland's King hath deeply swore 
Ne'er to knit faith 3 with Henry more, 
And strictly hath forbid resort 
From England to his royal court, 
Yet, for he knows Lord Marmion's name, 
And honors much his warlike fame, 
My liege hath deemed it shame, and lack 
Of courtesy, to turn him back ; 
And, by his order, I, your guide, 
Must lodging fit and fair provide 
Till finds King James meet time to see 
The flower of English chivalry." 



IX. 

Though inly chafed at this delay, 
Lord Marmion bears it as he may. 
The Palmer, his mysterious guide, 
Beholding thus his place supplied, 

Sought to take leave in vain : 
Strict was the Lion-King's command 
That none who rode in Marmion's band 

Should sever from the train. 

1 King James IV. of Scotland. 

2 The Lion-King was crowned like a king, and with almost as solemn 
ceremonies as a king. 

3 " Knit faith," i.e., make treaties of peace. 



iv.] M ARM I ON. 95 

" England has here enow of spies 
In Lady Heron's witching eyes : " 
To Marchmount thus apart he said, 
But fair pretext l to Marmion made. 
The right-hand path they now decline, 2 
And trace against the stream 3 the Tyne. 4 

x. 

At length up that wild dale they wind, 

Where Crichtoun Castle 5 crowns the bank ; 
For there the Lion's care assigned 

A lodging meet for Marmion's rank. 
That castle rises on the steep 

Of the green vale of Tyne : 
And far beneath, where slow they creep 
From pool to eddy, dark and deep, 
Where alders moist, and willows weep, 

You hear her streams repine. 
The towers in different ages G rose ; 
Their various architecture shows 

The builders' various hands ; 
A mighty mass, that could oppose, 
When deadliest hatred fired its foes, 

The vengeful Douglas 7 bands. 

1 " Fair pretext," i.e., reasonable explanation. 

2 That is, they turned to the left. 

3 " Trace against the stream," i.e., follow upstream. 

4 A river of southern Scotland, flowing into the North Sea. 

5 A castle on the Tyne, about seven miles from Edinburgh, and originally 
the estate of Chancellor Sir William Crichton. 

6 There were several additions to the castle in different ages. 

7 One of the famous Scotch families. On account of an injury done by 
Sir William Crichton, the Earl of Douglas attacked the castle, and finally 
took it. 



96 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XL 

Crichtoim! though now thy miry court 

But pens the lazy steer and sheep, 

Thy turrets rude, and tottered keep, 
Have been the minstrel's loved resort. 
Oft have I traced, within thy fort, 

Of moldering shields the mystic l sense, 

Scutcheons 2 of honor or pretense, 
Quartered 3 in old armorial sort, 

Remains of rude magnificence. 
Nor wholly yet had time defaced 

Thy lordly gallery fair ; 
Nor yet the stony cord 4 unbraced, 5 
Whose twisted knots, with roses laced, 

Adorn thy ruined stair. 
Still rises unimpaired below, 
The courtyard's graceful portico ; 
Above its cornice, row and row 
Of fair hewn facets richly show 

Their pointed diamond form, 
Though there but houseless cattle go, 

To shield them from the storm. 
And, shuddering, still may we explore, 

Where oft whilom 6 were captives pent, 
The darkness of thy Massy 3 More, 

Or, from thy grass- grown battlement, 
May trace in undulating line 
The sluggish mazes of the Tyne. 

1 Mystic, because known only by initiates in heraldry. 

2 Shields covered with armorial bearings, given as rewards for brave deeds. 
A small shield in the center of a man's escutcheon, bearing the arms of his 
wife, was called " a scutcheon of pretense." 

3 See Glossary. 4 " Stony cord," i.e., cordage carved in stonework. 
5 Worn by time, 6 In times past. 



iv.] M ARM I ON, 97 

XII. 

Another aspect Crichtoun showed, 

As through its portal Marmion rode ; 

But yet 'twas melancholy state 

Received him at the outer gate, 

For none were in the castle then 

But women, boys, or aged men. 

With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame 

To welcome noble Marmion came ; 

Her son, a stripling twelve years old, 

Proffered the baron's rein to hold ; 

For each man that could draw a sword 

Had marched that morning with their lord, 

Earl Adam Hepburn, 1 — he who died 

On Flodden 2 by his sovereign's side. 

Long may his lady look in vain! 

She ne'er shall see his gallant train 

Come sweeping back through Crichtoun-Dean. 3 

'Twas a brave race before the name 

Of hated Bothwell 4 stained their fame. 

XIII. 

And here two days did Marmion rest, 

With every rite that honor claims, 
Attended as the King's own guest, — 

Such the command of royal James, 
Who marshaled then his land's array, 

1 Second Earl of Bothwell, and an owner of Crichtoun Castle. 

2 A hill not far from Norham Castle, where the battle of Flodden was 
fought, Sept. 9, 1 5 13 (see Introduction). 

3 A small valley near Crichtoun Castle. 

4 James, Earl of Bothwell, grandson of Earl Adam Hepburn. He was 
implicated in the murder of Darnley, the husband of Mary Queen of Scots. 

7 



98 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Upon the Borough-moor 1 that lay. 

Perchance he would not foeman's eye 

Upon his gathering host should pry, 

Till full prepared was every band 

To march against the English land. 

Here while they dwelt, did Lindesay's wit 

Oft cheer the baron's moodier fit ; 

And, in his turn, he knew to prize 

Lord Marmion's powerful mind, and wise, — 

Trained in the lore of Rome and Greece, 

And policies of war and peace. 

XIV. 

It chanced, as fell the second night, 

That on the battlements they walked, 
And, by the slowly fading light, 

Of varying topics talked ; 
And, unaware, the herald bard 
Said Marmion might his toil have spared 

In traveling so far, 
For that a messenger from heaven 
In vain to James had counsel given 

Against the English war; 
And, closer questioned, thus he told 
A tale which chronicles of old 
In Scottish story have enrolled. 



xv. 



SIR DAVID LINDESAY S TALE. 

. " Of all the palaces so fair, 

Built for the royal dwelling, 
In Scotland, far beyond compare 

1 A field two miles wide just outside Edinburgh (see Note 3, p. 107). 



iv.] 31 ARM I OX. 99 

Linlithgow 1 is excelling ; 
And in its park, in jovial June, 
How sweet the merry linnet's tune, 

How blithe the blackbird's lay! 
The wild buck bells 2 from ferny brake, 
The coot dives merry on the lake, 
The saddest heart might pleasure take 

To see all nature gay. 
But June is to our sovereign dear 
The heaviest month in all the year ; 
Too well his cause of grief you know, 
June saw his father's overthrow. 3 
Woe to the traitors who could bring 
The princely boy against his King! 
Still in his conscience 4 burns the sting. 
In offices as strict as Lent 5 
King James's June is ever spent. 

XVI. 

" When last this ruthful month was come, 
And in Linlithgow's holy dome 

The King, as wont, was praying ; 
While for his royal father's soul 
The chanters sung, the bells did toll, 

The bishop mass was saying, — 
For now the year brought round again 
The day the luckless king was slain, — 

1 A town and castle on a lake of the same name, west of Edinburgh. 

2 Calls or brays, a shortened form of " bellow." 

3 James III., King of Scotland, was killed in 1488 while fleeing from an 
army of rebellious subjects, among whom was his own son (see Introduc- 
tion). 

4 After the battle (Sauchie-burn, fought June 18, 1488) James IV., 
touched by remorse, performed acts of penance at Stirling. 

5 See Glossary. 



ioo SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

In Catherine's aisle 1 the monarch knelt, 
With sackcloth shirt and iron belt, 2 

And eyes with sorrow streaming ; 
Around him, in their stalls 3 of state, 
The Thistle's Knight-Companions 4 sate, 

Their banners o'er them beaming. 
I too was there, and, sooth to tell, 
Bedeafened with the jangling knell, 
Was watching where the sunbeams fell, 

Through the stained casement gleaming ; 
But, while I marked what next befell, 

It seemed as I were dreaming. 
Stepped from the crowd a ghostly wight, 
In azure gown, with cincture 3 white; 
His forehead bald, his head was bare, 
Down hung at length his yellow hair. 
Now, mock me not when, good my lord, 
I pledge to you my knightly word 
That when I saw his placid grace, 
His simple majesty of face, 
His solemn bearing, and his pace 

So stately gliding on, — 
Seemed to me ne'er did limner 5 paint 
So just an image of the saint 
Who propped 6 the Virgin in her faint, — 

The loved Apostle John! 

1 Saint Catherine's Chapel in Saint Michael's Church, near the palace 
Linlithgow. 

2 One of the penances which James IV. took upon himself was the con- 
stant wearing of an iron belt, to which he added several ounces every year of 
his life. 

3 See Glossary. 4 A celebrated Scottish order of knighthood. 
5 A portrait artist. 6 Supported. 



iv.] M Aim ION. 



XVII. 

"He stepped before the monarch's chair, 
And stood with rustic plainness there. 

And little reverence made ; 
Nor head, nor body, bowed nor bent, 
But on the desk his arm he leant, 

And words like these he said, 
In a low voice, — but never tone 
So thrilled through vein and nerve and bone : — ■ 
' My mother sent me from afar, 
Sir King, to warn thee not to war, — 

Woe waits on thine array ; 
If war thou wilt, of woman ] fair, 
Her witching wiles and wanton snare, 
James Stuart, doubly 2 warned, beware : 

God keep thee as he may! ' — 
The wondering monarch seemed to seek 

For answer, and found none ; 
And when he raised his head to speak, 

The monitor was gone. 
The marshal and myself had cast 3 
To stop him as he outward passed ; 
But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast, 

He vanished from our eyes, 
Like sunbeam on the billow cast, 

That glances but, and dies." 

XVIII. 

While Lindesay told his marvel strange, 
The twilight was so pale, 

1 Lady Heron, it is said, tried to hinder the military preparations of King 
James, and doubtless gave Surrey, the commander of the English Army, what 
information she could obtain. 

2 Warned of treachery and against proceeding to war. 3 Resolved. 



102 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

He marked not Marmion's color change 

While listening to the tale ; 
But, after a suspended pause, 
The baron spoke : " Of Nature's laws 

So strong I held the force, 
That never superhuman cause 

Could e'er control their course, 
And, three days since, had judged your aim 
Was but to make your guest your game ; l 
But I have seen, since past the Tweed, 
What much has changed my skeptic creed, 
And made me credit aught." He staid, 
And seemed to wish his words unsaid : 
But by that strong emotion pressed, 
Which prompts us to unload our breast 

Even when discovery's pain, 
To Lindesay did at length unfold 
. The tale his village host had told, 

At Gifford, to his train. 
Naught of the Palmer says he there, 
And naught of Constance or of Clare ; 
The thoughts which broke his sleep he seems 
To mention but as feverish dreams. 

XIX. 

" In vain," said he, " to rest I spread 
My burning limbs, and couched my head : 

Fantastic thoughts returned, 
And, by their wild dominion led, 

My heart within me burned. 
So sore was the delirious goad, 
I took my steed, and forth I rode, 
And, as the moon shone bright and cold, 

1 Object of sport. 






IV.] M ARM ION. 103 

Soon reached the camp upon the wold. 1 
The southern 2 entrance I passed through, 
And halted, and my bugle blew. 
Methought an answer met my ear, — 
Yet was the blast so low and drear, 
So hollow, and so faintly blown, 
It might be echo of my own. 



xx. 

" Thus judging, for a little space 
I listened ere I left the place, 

But scarce could trust my eyes, 
Nor yet can think they serve me true, 
When sudden in the ring I view, 
In form distinct of shape and hue, 

A mounted champion rise. — 
I've fought, Lord- Lion, many a day, 
In single fight and mixed affray, 
And ever, I myself may say, 

Have borne me as a knight"; 
But when this unexpected foe 
Seemed starting from the gulf below, — 
I care not though the truth I show, — 

I trembled with affright ; 
And as I placed in rest my spear, 
My hand so shook for very fear, 

I scarce could couch it right. 

XXI. 

"Why need my tongue the issue tell ? 
We ran our course, — my charger fell ; — 
What could he 'gainst the shock of hell ? * 



1 See Glossary. 2 See Canto III. xxiii. 

3 " Shock of hell," i.e., attack of an evil spirit. 



104 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

I rolled upon the plain. 
High o'er my head, with threatening hand, 
The specter shook his naked brand, — 

Yet did the worst remain : 
My dazzled eyes I upward cast, — 
Not opening hell itself could blast 

Their sight like what I saw! 
Full on his face the moonbeam strook, 1 — 
A face could 2 never be mistook! 
I knew the stern vindictive look, 

And held my breath for awe. 
I saw the face of one 3 who, fled 
To foreign climes, has long been dead, — 

I well believe the last; 4 
For ne'er from visor raised did stare 
A human warrior with a glare 

So grimly and so ghast. 
Thrice o'er my head he shook the blade ; 
But when to good Saint George I prayed, 
(The first time e'er I asked his aid,) 

He plunged it in the sheath ; 
And, on his courser mounting light, 
He seemed to vanish from my sight : 
The moonbeam drooped, and deepest night 

Sunk down upon the heath. — 
'Twere long to tell what cause I have 

To know his face that met me there, 
Called by his hatred from the grave 

To cumber upper air : 
Dead or alive, good cause had he 
To be my mortal enemy." 

l Struck. 2 Which could. 

3 De Wilton. 4 That is, that he was dead. 



iv.] M ARM ION. 105 

XXII. 

Marveled Sir David of the Mount ; 
Then, learned in story, 'gan recount 

Such chance 1 had happed of old, 
When once, near Norham, there did fight 
A specter fell of fiendish might, 
In likeness of a Scottish knight, 

With Brian Bulmer 2 bold, 
And trained him nigh to disallow 3 
The aid of his baptismal vow. 
" And such a phantom, too, 'tis said, . 
With Highland broadsword, targe, and plaid, 4 

And fingers red with gore, 
Is seen in Rothiemurcus 5 glade, 
Or where the sable pine trees shade 
Dark Tomantoul, and Auchnaslaid, 

Dromouchty, or Glenmore. 
And yet, whate'er such legends say 
Of warlike demon, ghost, or fay, 

On mountain, moor, or plain, 
Spotless in faith, in bosom bold, 
True son of chivalry should hold 

These midnight terrors vain ; 
For seldom have such spirits power 
To harm, save in the evil hour 

1 " 'Gan recount," etc., i.e., began to tell of a similar occurrence that. 

2 An English knight who, according to story, while hunting, was met by 
a specter knight. They fought, and Bulmer was wounded. His opponent 
promised to heal him if he would never invoke the name of anything holy. 
Bulmer promised, and was healed ; but, surprised at his recovery, he thought- 
lessly uttered a holy exclamation, and the knight disappeared. 

3 " Trained him," etc., i.e., almost induced him to repudiate. 

4 See Glossary. 

5 Pine forests on the Spey, in the Scotch Highlands. Tomantoul, Auch- 
naslaid, Dromouchty, and Glenmore were in their vicinity. 



106 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

When guilt we meditate within, 
Or harbor unrepented sin." 
Lord Marmion turned him half aside, 
And twice to clear his voice he tried, 

Then pressed Sir David's hand, 
But naught, at length, in answer said ; 
And here their further converse staid, 

Each ordering that his band 
Should bowne 1 them with the rising day, 
To Scotland's camp to take their way, — 

Such was the King's command. 



XXIII. 

Early they took Dun-Edin's 2 road, 
And I could trace each step they trode : 
Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone, 
Lies on the path to me unknown. 
Much might it boast of storied lore ; 
But. passing such digression o'er, 
Suffice it that their route was laid 
Across the furzy 3 hills of Braid. 4 
They passed the glen and scanty rill, 
And climbed the opposing bank, until 
They gained the top of Blackford Hill 5 

XXIV. 

Blackford! on whose uncultured breast, 

Among the broom and thorn and whin, 6 
A truant boy, I sought the nest, 
Or listed, as I lay at rest, 

1 Equip. 2 Edinburgh {dun, Celtic for " 2, fortified height"). 

3 Covered with furze, an evergreen shrub with yellow flowers. 

4 Southeast of Edinburgh. 

5 Near Edinburgh, now owned by the city. 6 See Glossary. 



I v. ] MA RMION. 107 

While rose on breezes thin 
The murmur of the city crowd, 
And, from his steeple jangling loud, 

Saint Giles's 1 mingling din. 
Now, from the summit to the plain, 
Waves all the hill with yellow grain ; 

And o'er the landscape as I look, 
Naught do I see unchanged remain, 

Save the rude cliffs and chiming brook. 
To me they make a heavy moan 
Of early friendships past and gone. 



XXV. 

But different far the change has been, 

Since Marmion, from the crown 
Of Blackford, saw that martial scene 

Upon the bent 2 so brown : 
Thousand pavilions, white as snow, 
Spread all the Borough-moor 3 below, 

Upland and dale and down. 
A thousand did I say? I ween, 
Thousands on thousands there were seen 
That checkered all the heath between 

The streamlet and the town ; 
In crossing ranks extending far, 
Forming a camp irregular ; 
Oft giving way, where still there stood 
Some relics of the old oak wood, 4 
That darkly huge did intervene, 

1 Edinburgh Cathedral. 

2 Anglo-Saxon, Beonet, a harsh, stiff grass ; here the plain on which it 
grows. 

3 See note, p. 98. 

4 The moor was anciently a forest. 



08 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And tamed l the glaring white with green : 
In these extended lines there lay 
A martial kingdom's vast array. 



XXVI. 

For from Hebudes, 2 dark with rain, 
To eastern Lodon's 3 fertile plain, 
And from the southern Redswire 4 edge 
To farthest Rosse's 5 rocky ledge, 
From west to east, from south to north, 
Scotland sent all her warriors forth. 
Marmion might hear the mingled hum 
Of myriads up the mountain come, — 
The horses' tramp and tinkling clank, 
Where chiefs reviewed their vassal rank, 

And charger's shrilling neigh, — 
And see the shifting lines advance, 
While frequent flashed from shield and lance 

The sun's reflected ray. 

XXVII. 

Thin curling in the morning air, 
The wreaths of failing smoke declare 
To embers now the brands decayed, 
Where the night watch their fires had made. 
They saw, slow rolling on the plain, 
Full many a baggage cart and wain, 
And dire artillery's clumsy car, 
By sluggish oxen tugged to war ; 

1 Toned down. 

2 The Hebrides, islands in the Atlantic Ocean, northwest of Scotland. 

3 East Lothian, south of the Frith of Forth. 

4 Among the Cheviot Hills on the English Border. 

5 Ross-shire, in the north of Scotland. 



iv.j M ARM I OX. 109 

And there were Borthwick's Sisters Seven, 1 
And culverins 2 which France had given. 
Ill-omened gift! the guns remain 
The conqueror's spoil on Flodden plain. 

XXVIII. 

Nor marked they less where in the air 
A thousand streamers flaunted fair ; 
Various in shape, 3 device, and hue, 
Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue, 
Broad, narrow, swallow-tailed, and square, 
Scroll, 4 pennon, pensil, bandrol, there 

O'er the pavilions flew. 
Highest and midmost, was descried 
The royal banner floating wide ; 

The staff, a pine tree, strong and straight, 
Pitched deeply in a massive stone, 5 
Which still in memory is shown, 
Yet bent beneath the standard's weight. 
Whene'er the western wind unrolled 
With toil the huge and cumbrous fold, 
And gave to view the dazzling 6 field, 
Where, in proud Scotland's royal shield, 
The ruddy " lion ramped 4 in gold. 

1 Seven cannon made by a man whose name was Borthwick. 

2 Long cannon used in the sixteenth century. 

3 The different shapes of the streamers denoted the different ranks of the 
bearers. 

4 See Glossary. 

5 A huge stone (called the Hare stone) built into the wall on the high- 
way between Edinburgh and Braid; and from it, according to story, the 
royal banner was displayed. 

6 Gold-colored. 

7 Red. 



no SIR WALTER SCOTT. |_canto 

XXIX. 

Lord Marmion viewed the landscape bright, — 
He viewed it with a chief's delight, — 

Until within him burned his heart, 

And lightning from his eye did part, 
As on the battle day ; 

Such glance did falcon never dart 
When stooping on his prey. 
"Oh! well, Lord- Lion, hast thou said, 
Thy King from warfare to dissuade 

Were but a vain essay ; 
For, by Saint George, were that host mine, 
Not power infernal nor divine 
Should once to peace my soul incline, 
Till I had dimmed their armor's shine 

In glorious battle fray ! " 
Answered the bard, of milder mood, 
" Fair is the sight ; and yet 'twere good 

That kings would think withal, 
When peace and wealth their land has blessed, 
'Tis better to sit still at rest 

Than rise, perchance to fall." 

XXX. 

Still on the spot Lord Marmion staid, 
For fairer scene he ne'er surveyed. 

When sated with the martial show 

That peopled all the plain below, 

The wandering eye could o'er it go, 

And mark the distant city glow 
With gloomy splendor red ; 

For on the smoke wreaths, huge and slow, 

That round her sable turrets flow, 



iv.] MARMION. in 

The morning beams were shed, 

And tinged them with a luster proud, 

Like that which streaks a thundercloud. 
Such dusky grandeur clothed the height 
Where the huge castle Y holds its state, 

And all the steep slope down, 
Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, 
Piled deep and massy, close and high, 

Mine own romantic town! 
But northward far, with purer blaze, 
On Ochil 2 mountains fell the rays, 
And, as each heathy top they kissed, 
It gleamed a purple amethyst. 
Yonder the shores of Fife 3 you saw ; 
Here Preston-Bay 4 and Berwick-Law; 5 

And, broad between them rolled, 
The gallant Frith 6 the eye might note, 
Whose islands on its bosom float, 

Like emeralds chased in gold. 
Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent ; 
As if to give his rapture vent, 
The spur he to his charger lent, 

And raised his bridle hand, 
And, making demivolt 7 in air, 
Cried, " Where's the coward that would not dare 

To fight for such a land ! " 
The Lindesay smiled his joy to see, 
Nor Marmion's frown repressed his glee. 

1 Edinburgh Castle, on a hill in the central part of the city. 

2 A range of low mountains northwest of Edinburgh. 

3 A county bordering on the Frith of Forth. 

4 East of Edinburgh. 

5 A hill east of Edinburgh, near the coast of the North Sea. 

6 Frith of Forth. 

7 See Glossary. 



H2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 



XXXI. 

Thus while they looked, a flourish proud, 
Where mingled trump, and clarion loud, 

And fife, and kettledrum, 
And sackbut x deep, and psaltery, 1 
And war pipe with discordant cry, 
And cymbal clattering to the sky, 
Making wild music bold and high, 

Did up the mountain come ; 
The whilst the bells, with distant chime, 
Merrily tolled the hour 2 of prime, 

And thus the Lindesay spoke : 
" Thus clamor still the war notes when 
The King to mass his way has ta'en, 
Or to Saint Catherine's 3 of Sienne, 

Or Chapel of Saint Rocque. 4 
To you they speak of martial fame, 
But me remind of peaceful game, 

When blither was their cheer, 
Thrilling in Falkland-woods 5 the air, 
In signal none his steed should spare, 
But strive which foremost might repair 

To the downfall of the deer. 

XXXII. 

" Nor less," he said, " when looking forth 
I view yon Empress 6 of the North 
Sit on her hilly throne, 

1 See Glossary. 2 Six A.M., the hour for morning prayer. 

3 A convent just outside the walls of Edinburgh. 

4 A small chapel on the Borough-moor. 

5 A royal forest twenty-five miles north of Edinburgh. 

6 That is, Edinburgh. 



iv.] MARMION.^ 113 

Her palace's imperial bowers, 
Her castle, proof to hostile powers, 
Her stately halls and holy towers — 

Nor less," he said, " I moan 
To think what woe mischance may bring, 
And how these merry bells may ring 
The death dirge of our gallant King ; 

Or with the larum 1 call 
The burghers 2 forth to watch and ward, 3 
'Gainst southern sack 4 and fires to guard 

Dun-Edin's leaguered 5 wall. — 
But not for my presaging thought, 
Dream conquest sure, or cheaply bought! 

Lord Marmion, I say nay : 
God is the guider of the field, 
He breaks the champion's spear and shield, — 

But thou thyself shalt say, 
When joins yon host in deadly stowre, 6 
That England's dames must weep in bower, 

Her monks the death mass sing ; 
For never saw^'st thou such a power 

Led on by such a King." 
And now, down winding to the plain, 
The barriers 7 of the camp they gain, 

And there they made a stay. — 
There stays the Minstrel, till he fling 
His hand o'er every Border string, 
And fit his harp the pomp to sing, 
Of Scotland's ancient Court and King, 

In the succeeding lay. 

1 Alarm ; call to arms. 2 See Glossary. 

3 The watch was the night guard ; the ward, the day guard : hence 
" watch and ward " was to guard day and night. 

4 Plunder. 5 Beleaguered ; besieged. 

6 Battle. ? The palisade which inclosed the camp. 

8 



114 SI/i WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

CANTO FIFTH. 

THE COURT. 

I. 

THE train has left the hills of Braid; 
The barrier guard have open made 
(So Lindesay bade) the palisade 

That closed the tented ground ; 
Their men the warders backward drew, 
And carried pikes : as they rode through 

Into its ample bound. 
Fast ran the Scottish warriors there, 
Upon the Southern band to stare. 
And envy .with their wonder rose, 
To see such well-appointed foes ; 
Such length of shafts, such mighty bows, 
So huge that many simply thought 
But for a vaunt 2 such weapons wrought, 
And little deemed their force to feel, 
Through links of mail, and plates of steel, 
When, rattling upon Flodden vale, 
The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail. 

ii. 

Nor less did Marmion's skillful view 
Glance every line and squadron 3 through, 
And much he marveled one small land 
Could marshal forth such various band : 

For men 4 at arms were here, 
Heavily sheathed in mail and plate, 



!" 



1 " Carried pikes," i.e., saluted, as in the modern " Present arms'! 

2 Show. 3 Soldiers drawn up in the form of a square. 4 See Glossary. 



v.] M ARM I OX. 115 

Like iron towers for strength and weight, 
On Flemish steeds of bone and height, 

With battle-ax and spear. 
Young knights and squires, a lighter train, 
Practiced their chargers on the plain, 
By aid of leg, of hand, and rein, 

Each warlike feat to show, 
To pass, 1 to wheel, the croupe : to gain, 
And high curvet, 1 that not in vain 2 
The sword sway might descend amain 

On foeman's casque below. 
He saw the hardy burghers there 
March armed, on foot, with faces bare, 

For visor they wore none, 
Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight ; 
But burnished were their corselets ] bright, 
Their brigantines, 1 and gorgets 1 light, 

Like very silver shone. 
Long pikes they had for standing fight, 

Two-handed swords they wore, 
And many wielded mace 2 of weight, 

And bucklers ' bright they bore. 

in. 

On foot the yeoman too, but dressed 
In his steel-jack, 1 a swarthy vest, 

With iron quilted well ; 
Each at his back (a slender store) 
His forty days' provision bore, 3 i 

As feudal statutes tell. 

1 See Glossary. 

2 Horsemen add weight to their stroke by the action of the horse. 

3 Under the feudal system a man held property from his lord, and in re- 
turn was obliged to fight for him when summoned, and to appear with forty 
days' provisions. 



n6 S/J? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

His arms were halberd, 1 ax, or spear, 
A crossbow there, a hagbut 1 here, 

A dagger-knife, and brand. 
Sober he seemed, and sad of cheer, 
As loath to leave his cottage dear, 

And march to foreign strand ; 
Or musing who would guide his steer 

To till the fallow land. 
Yet deem not in his thoughtful eye 
Did aught of dastard terror lie ; 

More dreadful far his ire 
Than theirs, who, scorning danger's name, 
In eager mood to battle came, 
Their valor like light straw on flame, 

A fierce but fading fire. 

IV. 

Not so the Borderer : l bred to war, 
He knew the battle's din afar, 

And joyed to hear it swell. 
His peaceful day was slothful ease ; 
Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please 

Like the loud slogan 1 yell. 
On active steed, with lance and blade, 
The light-armed pricker 1 plied his trade, — 

Let nobles fight for fame ; 
Let vassals follow where they lead, 
Burghers, to guard their townships, bleed, 

But war's the Borderer's game. 
Their gain, their glory, their delight, 
To sleep the day, maraud the night, 

O'er mountain, moss, 1 and moor; 
Joyful to fight they took their way, 

1 See Glossary. 



v.] M ARM ION. 

Scarce caring who might win the day, 

Their booty 1 was secure. 
These, as Lord Marmion's train passed by, 
Looked on at first with careless eye, 
Nor marveled aught, well taught to know 
The form and force of English bow. 
But when they saw the lord arrayed 
In splendid arms and rich brocade, 
Each Borderer to his kinsman said, 

"Hist, Ringan! seest thou there! 
Canst guess which road they'll homeward ride? 
Oh, could we but on Border side, 
By Eusedale 2 glen, or Liddell's 3 tide, 

Beset a prize so fair! 
That fangless Lion, 4 too, their guide, 
Might chance to lose his glistering hide; 5 
Brown Maudlin, 6 of that doublet pied, 7 

Could make a kirtle 7 rare." 



Next, Marmion marked the Celtic race, 
Of different language, 8 form, and face, 

A various race of man ; 
Just then trie chiefs their tribes arrayed, 

1 They frequently deserted to the ranks of the victor, that they might 
share in the booty. 

- The valley of the Euse, a tributary of the Liddell. 

3 A tributary of the Eske, which flows into Solway Frith. The Liddell 
forms part of the border between England and Scotland. 

4 Sir David Lindesay ; fangless, because his soldiers were without their 
weapons. 

5 Coat. 

6 A contraction of " Magdalen." 
T See Glossary, 

» The Highlanders' speech was Gaelic, a form of Celtic ; the Borderers', 
Lowland Scotch, not unlike the English (see Introduction). 



n8 S/J? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And wild and garish semblance made 
The checkered trews 1 and belted plaid, 2 
And varying notes the war pipes brayed 

To every varying clan. 3 
Wild through their red or sable hair 
Looked out their eyes with savage stare 

On Marmion as he passed ; 
Their legs above the knee were bare ; 
Their frame was sinewy, short, and spare, 

And hardened to the blast ; 
Of taller race, the chiefs they own 
Were by the eagle's plumage known. 
The hunted red deer's undressed hide 
Their hairy buskins 1 well supplied ; 
The graceful bonnet 1 decked their head : 
Back from their shoulders hung the plaid ; 
A broadsword 4 of unwieldy length, 
A dagger proved for edge and strength, 

A studded targe they wore, 
And quivers, bows, and shafts, — but, oh! 
Short was the shaft, and weak the bow, 

To that which England bore. 
The isles-men 5 carried at their backs 
The ancient Danish battle-ax. 6 
They raised a wild and wondering cry, 
As with his guide rode Marmion by. 
Loud were their clamoring tongues, as when 
The clanging sea fowl leave the fen, 

1 See Glossary. 

2 The plaid was fastened at the waist with a belt, so that part of it formed 
a skirt. 

3 Each clan had its distinctive air. % 

4 The claymore. 

5 Men from the islands north and northwest of Scotland. 

6 The Danes made inroads in Scotland at various times, from about 866 
to 1014. 



v.] . M ARM I ON. 119 

And, with their cries discordant mixed, 
Grumbled and yelled the pipes betwixt. 



VI. 

Thus through the Scottish camp they passed, 

And reached the city gate at last, 

Where all around, a wakeful guard, 

Armed burghers kept their watch and ward. 

Well had they cause of jealous fear, 

When lay encamped, in field so near, 

The Borderer and the Mountaineer. 

As through the bustling streets they go, 

All was alive with martial show : 

At every turn, with dinning clang, 

The armorer's anvil clashed and rang ; 

Or toiled the swarthy smith, to wheel 1 

The bar that arms the charger's heel ; 

Or ax, or falchion, to the side 

Of jarring grindstone was applied. 

Page, groom, and squire, with hurrying pace, 

Through street and lane and market place, 

Bore lance, or casque, or sword ; 
While burghers, with important face, 

Described each new-come lord, 
Discussed his lineage, told his name, 
His following, and his warlike fame. 
The Lion led to lodging meet, 
Which high o'erlooked the crowded street ; 

There must the baron rest 
Till past the hour of vesper 2 tide, 
And then to Holy-Rood must ride, — 

Such was the King's behest. 

1 Bend iron for a horseshoe. 2 See Glossary. 



120 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Meanwhile the Lion's care assigns 
A banquet rich, and costly wines, 

To Marmion and his train ; 
And when the appointed hour succeeds, 
The baron dons his peaceful weeds, 1 
And, following Lindesay as he leads, 

The palace halls they gain. 

VII. 

Old Holy- Rood rung merrily 
That night with wassail, mirth, and glee : 
King James within her princely bower 
Feasted the chiefs of Scotland's power, 
Summoned to spend the parting hour ; 
For he had charged that his array 
Should southward march by break of day. 
Well loved that splendid monarch aye 2 

The banquet and the song, 
By day the tourney, 3 and by night 
The merry dance, traced fast and light, 
The maskers quaint, the pageant bright, 

The revel loud and long. 
This feast outshone his banquets past ; 
It was his blithest — and his last. 
The dazzling lamps from gallery gay 
Cast on the court a dancing ray ; 
Here to the harp did minstrels sing ; 
There ladies touched a softer string ; 
With long-eared cap and motley vest, 
The licensed fool retailed 4 his jest ; 
His magic tricks the juggler plied ; 
At dice and draughts the gallants vied ; 

1 " Dons his peaceful weeds," i.e., puts on his court dress. 

2 Always. 3 See Glossary. 4 Repeated. 



v.] M ARM I ON. 

While some, in close recess apart, 
Courted the ladies of their heart, 

Nor courted them in vain ; 
For often, in the parting hour, 
Victorious Love asserts his power 

O'er coldness and disdain ; 
And flinty is her heart can view 
To battle march a lover true — 
• Can hear, perchance, his last adieu, 

Nor own her share of pain. 

VIII. 

Through this mixed crowd of glee and game, 
The King to greet Lord Marmion came, 

While, reverent, all made room. 
An easy task it was, I trow, 
King James's manly form to know, 
Although, his courtesy to show, 
He doffed, to Marmion bending low, 

His broidered cap and plume. 
For royal was his garb and mien : 

His cloak, of crimson velvet piled, 1 

Trimmed with the fur of marten wild, 
His vest of changeful satin sheen, 

The dazzled eye beguiled ; 
His gorgeous collar hung adown, 
Wrought with the badge of Scotland's crown, 
The thistle brave, of old renown ; 
His trusty blade, Toledo 2 right, 
Descended from a baldric 3 bright ; 
White were his buskins, on the heel 

1 " Of crimson," etc., i.e., made of crimson velvet. 

2 Toledo, Spain, was famous for its swords. 

3 See Glossary, 



SZJ? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

His spurs inlaid of gold and steel ; 

His bonnet, all of crimson fair, 

Was buttoned with a ruby rare : 

And Marmion deemed he ne'er had seen 

A prince of such a noble mien. 

IX. 

The monarch's form was middle size, 

For feat of strength or exercise • 

Shaped in proportion fair ; 
And hazel was his eagle eye, 
And auburn of the darkest dye 

His short curled beard and hair. 
Light was his footstep in the dance, 

And firm his stirrup in the lists ; 
And, oh! he had that merry glance 

That seldom lady's heart resists. 
Lightly from fair to fair he flew, 
And loved to plead, lament, and sue, — - 
Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, 
For monarchs seldom sigh in vain. 

I said he joyed in banquet bower ; 
But, 'mid his mirth, 'twas often strange 
How suddenly his cheer would change, 

His look o'ercast and lower, 
If, in a sudden turn, he felt 
The pressure of his iron belt, 
That bound his breast in penance pain, 
In memory of his father slain. 
Even so 'twas strange how evermore, 
Soon as the passing pang was o'er, 
Forward he rushed with double glee 
Into the stream of revelry. 
Thus dim-seen object of affright 
Startles the courser in his flight, 



v. ] MA RMION. 1 2 3 

And half he halts, half springs aside, 
But feels the quickening spur applied, 
And, straining on the tightened rein, 
Scours doubly swift o'er hill and plain. 

x. 

O'er James's heart, the courtiers say, 
Sir Hugh the Heron's, wife held sway: 

To Scotland's court she came, 
To be a hostage for her lord, 
Who Cessford's l gallant heart had gored, 
And, with the King to make accord, 

Had sent his lovely dame. 
Nor to that lady tree alone 
Did the gay King allegiance own ; 

For the fair Queen 2 of France 
Sent him a turquoise ring and glove, 
And charged him, as her knight and love, 

For her to break a lance, 3 
And strike three strokes with Scottish brand, 
And march three miles on Southron 4 land, 
And bid the banners of his band 

In English breezes dance. 
And thus for France's Queen he drest 
His manly limbs in mailed vest, 
And thus admitted English fair 
His inmost councils still to share, 
And thus for both he madly planned 
The ruin of himself and land! 

And yet, the sooth to tell, 

1 Robert Ker of Cessford. A brother of Sir Heron of Ford was the real 
murderer of Cessford, but, to please James IV., Henry VIII. delivered up 
Sir Heron also. Lady Heron was taken captive by King James. 

2 The wife of Louis XII. of France (see Introduction). 

3 " Break a lance," i.e., go to war. 4 English. 



124 SIT WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Nor England's fair, nor France's Queen, 
Were worth one pearl-drop, bright and sheen, 

From Margaret's eyes that fell, — 
His own Queen Margaret, who, in Lithgow's bower, 
All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour. 

XL 

The Queen sits lone in Lithgow pile, 

And weeps the weary day 
The war against her native soil, 
Her monarch's risk 1 in battle broil ; 
And in gay Holy-Rood, the while, 
Dame Heron rises with a smile 

Upon the harp to play. 
Fair was her rounded arm, as o'er 

The strings her fingers flew ; 
And as she touched and tuned them all, 
Ever her bosom's rise and fall 

Was plainer given to view ; 
For, all for heat, was laid aside 
Her wimple, 2 and her hood untied. 
And first she pitched her voice to sing, 
Then glanced her dark eye on the King, 
And then around the silent ring, 
And laughed, and blushed, and oft did say 
Her pretty oath, by yea and nay, 
She could not, would not, durst not play! 
At length, upon the harp, with glee, 
Mingled with arch simplicity, 
A soft yet lively air she rung, 
While thus the wily lady sung : — 

1 " Weeps the weary," etc., i.e., weeps all the weary day, because of the 
war against her native land, and because of her husband's risk, etc. Margaret 
was sister of Henry VIII. 

2 See Glossary. 



v.] - M ARM I ON.- 125 



XIL 



LOCHINVAR. 

Lady Heron 's Song. 

Oh! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; 
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, 
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, 

He swam the Eske River where ford there was none ; 

But ere he alighted at Netherby 1 gate, 

The bride had consented, the gallant came late : 

For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 

Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, 

Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all : 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, 

(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) 

" Oh! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar? " — 

" I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; 
Love swells like the Solwav, 2 but ebbs like its tide — 



1 Netherby Castle, on the Scottish Border of England, on the bank of the 
Eske River. 

2 Solway Frith, an arm of the Irish Sea, forming part of the boundary 
between England and Scotland. In it the tides rise rapidly and to great 
heights, but fall or ebb very slowly. 



126 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, 
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." 



The bride kissed the goblet : the knight took it up, 
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. 
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, 
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. 
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — 
" Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. 

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, 

That never a hall such a galliard : did grace ; 

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, 

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; 

And the bridemaidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far 

To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 

When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near ; 

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 

So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 

"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; 1 

They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. 

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; 

Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : 

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, 2 

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 

So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, 

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? 

1 See Glossary. 2 The Cannobie Meadows, near Netherby Castle. 



V.J MARMION. 127 

XIII. 

The monarch o'er the siren hung, 
And beat the measure as she sung ; 
And, pressing closer and more near, 
He whispered praises in her ear. 
In loud applause the courtiers vied, 
And ladies winked and spoke aside. 

The witching dame to Marmion threw 
A glance, where seemed to reign 

The pride that claims applauses due, 

And of her royal conquest too 
A real or feigned disdain : 
Familiar was the look, and told 
Marmion and she were friends of old. 
The King observed their meeting eyes 
With something like displeased surprise; 
For monarchs ill can rivals brook, 
Even in a word, or smile, or look. 
Straight took he forth the parchment broad 
Which Marmion's high commission showed : 
" Our Borders sacked by many a raid, 
Our peaceful liegemen robbed," he said ; 
"On day of truce our warden l slain, 
Stout Barton 2 killed, his vessels ta'en — 
Unworthy were we here to reign, 
Should these for vengeance cry in vain ; 
Our full defiance, hate, and scorn, 
Our herald has to Henry borne." 

xiv. 

He paused, and led where Douglas stood 
And with stern eye the pageant viewed : 

1 Cessford, warden or protector of the Middle Marches or Border lands. 

2 A Scotch mariner whose ship was attacked by order of Henry VIII. 



128 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

I mean that Douglas, sixth of yore, 
Who coronet of Angus : bore, 
And, when his blood and heart were high, 
Did the third James in camp defy, 
And all his minions led to die 

On Lauder's dreary flat. 
Princes and favorites long grew tame, 
And trembled at the homely name 

Of Archibald Eell-the-Cat ; 2 
The same who left the dusky vale 
Of Hermitage 3 in Liddisdale, 

Its dungeons and its towers, 
Where Bothwell's turrets brave the air, 
And Bothwell bank is blooming fair, 

To fix his princely bowers. 
Though now, in age, he had laid down 
His armor for the peaceful gown, 

And for a staff his brand, 
Yet often would flash forth the fire 
That could in youth a monarch's ire 

And minion's i pride withstand ; 
And even that day at council board, 

1 The last earl of the famous Douglas family was driven into exile by 
James IT. ; but another branch sprang up, headed by the Earl of Angus, 
who, loyal to the King, was rewarded by large grants of the Douglas land. 

2 Archibald Douglas, surnamed Bell-the-Cat, which sobriquet he won 
from his action in seizing certain favorites of the King whom none dared to 
touch, and disposing of them on the Lauder bridge. The name alludes to 
the fable of the mice who decided to put a bell on a cat that annoyed them, 
to warn them of its approach, but no mouse could be found brave enough 
to attach the bell. 

3 Hermitage Castle (near the Liddell River), which the King forced 
Douglas to exchange for Bothwell (on the Clyde, near Glasgow) on condi- 
tion of pardon for killing Spens of Kilspindie, a cavalier and royal favorite, 
thinking thereby to weaken the influence of the earl in any attempt against 
the Crown. 4 See Glossary. 



v. J MA RMION. i 2 9 

Unapt to soothe his sovereign's mood, 
Against the war had Angus stood, 
And chafed his royal lord. 



xv. 

His giant form, like ruined tower, 
Though fall'n its muscles' brawny vaunt, 
Huge-boned, and tall, and grim, and gaunt, 

Seemed o'er the gaudy scene to lower ; 
His locks and beard in silver grew ; 
His eyebrows kept their sable hue. 
Near Douglas when the monarch stood, 
His bitter speech he thus pursued : 
" Lord Marmion, since these letters say 
That in the North you needs must stay 

While slightest hopes of peace remain, 
Uncourteous speech it were, and stern, 
To say, Return to Lindisfarne, 

Until my herald come 1 again. — 
Then rest you in Tantallon hold ; 2 
Your host shall be the Douglas bold, — 
A chief unlike his sires of old. 
He wears their motto 3 on his blade, 
Their blazon 4 o'er his towers displayed, 
Yet loves his sovereign to oppose 
More than to face his country's foes. 5 



1 From Henry VIII., who was in France. 

2 Tantallon hold was a strong fortress on the shore of the North Sea, near 
North Berwick, Scotland. 

3 Two hands pointing to a heart placed between them, with a motto in- 
scribed around the whole. 

4 Coat of arms. That of the Douglas family was a heart and three stars. 

5 " Vet loves," etc. James IV., it is said, did in reality make this remark 
to Lord Douglas just before the battle of Flodden. 

9 



13° SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And, I bethink me, by Saint Stephen, 1 
But e'en 2 this morn to me was given 
A prize, the first fruits of the war, 
Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar, 

A bevy of the maids of heaven. 3 
Under your guard, these holy maids 
Shall safe return to cloister shades, 
And, while they at Tantallon stay, 
Requiem for Cochran's 4 soul may say." 
And, with the slaughtered favorite's name, 
Across the monarch's brow there came 
A cloud of ire, remorse, and shame. 



XVI. 

In answer naught could Angus speak ; 

His proud heart swelled well-nigh to break ; 

He turned aside, and down his cheek 

A burning tear there stole. 
His hand the monarch sudden took, 
That sight his kind heart could not brook : 

" Now, by the Bruce's 5 soul, 
Angus, my hasty speech forgive! 
For sure as doth his spirit live, 
As he said of the Douglas old, 

I well may say of you, — 
That never King did subject hold, 
In speech more free, in war more bold, 

More tender and more true : 
Forgive me, Douglas, once again." 
And, while the King his hand did strain, 

1 Stephen, the first martyr. 2 Only. 3 " Maids of heaven," i.e., nuns. 

4 One of the favorites of James III., whom Douglas executed at Lauder. 

5 A king of Scotland. He won the battle of Bannockburn over the Eng- 
lish in 1 3 14. 



v.] M ARM I ON. 131 

The old man's tears fell down like rain. 
To seize the moment Marmion tried, 
And whispered to the King aside, 
" Oh! let such tears unwonted plead 
For respite short from dubious deed ! 
A child will weep a bramble's smart, 
A maid to see her sparrow part, 
A stripling for a woman's heart ; 
But woe awaits a country when 
She sees the tears of bearded men. 
Then, oh! what omen, dark and high, 
When Douglas wets his manly eye!" 

XVII. 

Displeased was James that stranger viewed 

And tampered with his changing mood. 

" Laugh those that can, weep those that may," 

Thus did the fiery monarch say, 

" Southward I march by break of day ; 

And if within Tantallon strong 

The good Lord Marmion tarries long, 

Perchance our meeting next may fall 

At Tam worth, 1 in his castle hall." 

The haughty Marmion felt the taunt, 

And answered 2 grave the royal vaunt : 

" Much honored were my humble home, 

If in its halls King James should come ; 

But Nottingham has archers good, 

And Yorkshire men are stern of mood, 

Northumbrian prickers wild arid rude. 

1 In Staffordshire, England (see Note 6, p. 23). 

2 Marmion rapidly runs over the route to Tamworth, through the various 
counties, and the obstacles James would encounter. The order of his passage 
to Tamworth would be Northumberland, Yorkshire, Nottingham, Derby, 
Stafford. 



132 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

On Derby Hills the paths are steep ; 

In Ouse 1 and Tyne 2 the fords are deep ; 

And many a banner will be torn, 

And many a knight to earth be borne, 

And many a sheaf of arrows spent, 

Ere Scotland's King shall cross the Trent : 

Yet pause, brave prince, while yet you may!" 

The monarch lightly turned away, 

And to his nobles loud did call, 

" Lords, to the dance, — a hall, 3 a hall! " 

Himself his cloak and sword flung by, 

And led Dame Heron gallantly ; 

And minstrels, at the royal order, 

Rung out, " Blue Bonnets o'er the Border." 4 

XVIII. 

Leave we these revels now, to tell 
What to Saint Hilda's maids befell, 
Whose galley, as they sailed again 
To W r hitby, by a Scot was ta'en. 
Now at Dun-Edin did they bide 
Till James should of their fate decide ; 

And soon, by his command, 
Were gently summoned to prepare 
To journey under Marmion's care, 
As escort honored, safe, and fair, 

Again to English land. 
The Abbess told her chaplet 5 o'er, 

1 A river of Yorkshire, which, Math the Trent, forms the Humber, the 
latter emptying into tha North Sea. 

2 A river of Northumberland, with an easterly course, emptying into the 
North Sea. 

3 An old expression meaning to make room for a dance. 

4 A war song. The Blue Bonnets were the Scottish soldiers. 

5 See Glossary. 



v.] M ARM I ON. 133 

Nor knew which saint she should implore ; 
For, when she thought of Constance, sore 

She feared Lord Marmion's mood. 
And judge what Clara must have felt ! 
The sword that hung in Marmion's belt 

Had drunk De Wilton's blood. 
Unwittingly King James had given, 

As guard to Whitby's shades, 
The man most dreaded under heaven 

By these defenseless maids ; 
Yet what petition could avail, 
Or who would listen to the tale 
Of woman, prisoner, and nun, 
'Mid bustle of a war begun? 
They deemed it hopeless to avoid 
The convoy of their dangerous guide. 

XIX. 

Their lodging, so the King assigned, 
To Marmion's, as their guardian, joined ; 
And thus it fell, that, passing nigh, 
The Palmer caught the Abbess' eye, 

Who warned him by a scroll, 1 
She had a secret to reveal 
That much concerned the Church's weal, 

And health of sinner's soul ; 
And, with deep charge of secrecy, 

She named a place to meet, 
Within an open balcony, 
t That hung from dizzy pitch, and high, 

Above the stately street, 
To which, as common to each home, 
At night they might in secret come. 

1 See Glossary. 



134 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 



XX. 

At night in secret there they came, 
The Palmer and the holy dame. 
The moon among the clouds rose high, 
And all the city hum was by. 
Upon the street, where late before 
Did din of war and warriors roar, 

You might have heard a pebble fall, 
A beetle hum, a cricket sing, 
An owlet flap his boding wing- 
On Giles's steeple tall. 
The antique buildings, climbing high, 
Whose Gothic frontlets sought the sky, 

Were here wrapt deep in shade ; 
There on their brows the moonbeam broke, 
Through the faint wreaths of silvery smoke, 

And on the casements played. 

And other light was none to see, 
Save torches gliding far, 

Before some chieftain of degree 

Who left the royal revelry 
To bowne 1 him for the war. 
A solemn scene the Abbess chose, 
A solemn hour, her secret to disclose. 



XXI. 

"O holy Palmer!" she began, — 
" For sure he must be sainted man, 
Whose blessed feet have trod the ground 
Where the Redeemer's tomb is found, — 
For his dear Church's sake, my tale 

1 Equip. 



v.] MARMION. 135 

Attend, nor deem of light avail, 1 
Though I must speak of worldly love, — 
How vain to those who wed above! — 
De Wilton and Lord Marmion wooed 
Clara de Clare, of Gloster's blood ; 
(Idle it were of Whitby's dame 
To say of that same blood I came ; ) 
And once, when jealous rage was high, 
Lord Marmion said despiteously, 2 
Wilton was traitor in his heart, 
And had made league with Martin Swart, 3 
When he came here on SimnePs part ; 
And only cowardice did restrain 
His rebel aid on Stokefield's plain, — 
And down he threw his glove. The thing 
Was tried, as wont, before the King, 
Where frankly did De Wilton own 
That Swart in Guelders 4 he had known, 
And that between them then there went 
Some scroll of courteous compliment. 
For this he to his castle sent ; 
But when his messenger returned, 
Judge how De Wilton's fury burned ! 
For in his packet there were laid 
Letters that claimed disloyal aid, 
And proved King Henry's cause betrayed. 
His fame, thus blighted, in the field 
He strove to clear by spear and shield, — 

1 " Nor deem," etc., i.e., nor deem it trivial. 

2 With malicious bitterness. 

3 A German general who commanded the forces sent by the Duchess of 
Burgundy as auxiliaries to aid Simnel, a pretender to the English crown 
during the reign of Henry VII. Simnel was defeated June 16, 1487, at 
Stokefield, in Nottingham. • 

4 That is, Holland. 



13 6 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

To clear his fame in vain he strove, 
For wondrous are His ways above ! 
Perchance some form was unobserved, 
Perchance in prayer or faith he swerved, 
Else how could guiltless champion quail, 
Or how the blessed ordeal 1 fail? 



XXII. 

" His squire, who now De Wilton saw 
As recreant 2 doomed to suffer law, 

Repentant, owned in vain, 
That, while he had the scrolls in care, 
A stranger maiden, 3 passing fair, 
Had drenched 4 him with a beverage rare ; 

His words no faith could gain. 
With Clare alone he credence won, 
Who, rather than wed Marmion, 
Did to Saint Hilda's shrine repair, 
To give our house her livings fair, 
And die a vestal vot'ress 5 there. 
The impulse from the earth was given, 
But bent her to the paths of heaven. 
A purer heart, a lovelier maid, 
Ne'er sheltered her in Whitby's shade, 
No, not since Saxon Edelfled; 6 

Only one trace of earthly strain, 
That for her lover's loss 

She cherishes a sorrow vain, 
And murmurs at the cross. 

And then her heritage, — it goes 

1 Trial by combat. 

2 A knight who acknowledged himself vanquished was regarded as in- 
famous, and declared a recreant or coward. 3 Constance. 

4 Caused to drink deeply. 5 A nun. 6 See Note i, p. 50. 



v.] M ARM I ON. 137 

Along the banks of Tame ; 2 
Deep fields of grain the reaper mows, 
In meadows rich the heifer lows, 
The falconer and huntsman knows 
Its woodlands for the game. 

Shame were it to Saint Hilda dear, 

And I, her humble vot'ress here, 
Should do a deadly sin, 

Her temple spoiled 2 before mine eyes, 

If this false Marmion such a prize 
By my consent should win ; 

Yet hath our boisterous monarch sworn 

That Clare shall from our house be torn, 

And grievous cause have I to fear 

Such mandate doth Lord Marmion bear. 

XXIII. 

" Now, prisoner, helpless, and betrayed 
To evil power, I claim thine aid, 

By every step that thou hast trod 
To holy shrine and grotto dim, 
By every martyr's tortured limb, 
By angel, saint, and seraphim, 

And by the Church of God! 
For mark : when Wilton was betrayed, 
And with his squire forged letters laid, 
She was, alas! that sinful maid 

By whom the deed was done, — 
Oh! shame and horror to be said! 

She was a perjured nun ! 
No clerk in all the land, like her, 

1 A river of Warwickshire and Staffordshire, flowing into the Trent about 
seven miles north of Tamworth. 

2 See Glossary. 



138 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Traced quaint and varying character. 1 
Perchance you may a marvel deem, 

That Marmion's paramour 
(For such vile thing she was) should scheme 

Her lover's nuptial hour ; 
But o'er him thus she hoped to gain, 
As privy to his honor's stain, 

Illimitable power: 
• For this she secretly retained 

Each proof that might the plot reveal, 

Instructions with his hand and seal ; 
And thus Saint Hilda deigned, 

Through sinners' perfidy impure, 

Her house's glory to secure, 

And Clare's immortal weal. 



XXIV. 

" 'Twere long and needless here to tell 
How to my hand these papers fell ; 

With me they must not stay. 
Saint Hilda keep her Abbess true! 
Who knows what outrage he might do, 

While journeying by the way? — 

blessed Saint, if e'er again 

1 venturous leave thy calm domain, 
To travel or by land or main, 

Deep penance may I pay! — 
Now, saintly Palmer, mark my prayer: 
I give this packet to thy care, 
For thee to stop they will not dare ; 

And oh! with cautious speed 
To Wolsey's 2 hand the papers bring, 
That he may show them to the King : 

Writing. 2 Cardinal Wolsey, at one period King Henry's minister. 



v.] MARMION. 139 

And for thy well-earned meed, 
Thou holy man, at Whitby's shrine 
A weekly mass shall still be thine 

While priests can sing and read. — 
What ail'st thou ? — Speak! " — For as he took 
The charge, a strong emotion shook 

His frame ; and, ere reply, 
They heard a faint yet shrilly tone, 
Like distant clarion feebly blown, 

That on the breeze did die ; 
And loud the Abbess shrieked in fear, 
"Saint Withold, 1 save us! — What is here! 

Look at yon City Cross! 2 
See on its battled tower appear 
Phantoms, that scutcheons seem to rear, 

And blazoned banners toss! " 

xxv. 

Dun-Edin's Cross, a pillared stone, 
Rose on a turret octagon ; 

(But now is razed that monument, 3 

Whence royal edict rang, 
And voice of Scotland's law was sent 
In glorious trumpet clang. 
Oh! be his tomb as lead to lead, 
Upon its dull destroyer's head! 4 — 
A minstrel's malison 5 is said.) 

1 Saint Vitalis. 

2 It was customary for market places to have a large cross from which 
proclamations of the King were read. 

3 This curious structure was removed in 1756 by the Edinburgh magis- 
trates on the ground that it encumbered the street. Its lower part, an octag- 
onal tower, sixteen feet in diameter and fifteen feet high, was surmounted 
by a pillar or column twenty feet high. 

4 That is, its destroyers, having dull or leaden heads, deserved to have 
them crushed by a weight equally heavy. 5 See Glossary. 



H° SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

Then on its battlements they saw 
A vision, passing Nature's law, 

Strange, wild, and dimly seen ; 
Figures that seemed to rise and die, 
Gibber and sign, advance and fly, 
While naught confirmed * could ear or eye 

Discern of sound or mien. 
Yet darkly did it seem as there 
Heralds and pursuivants prepare, 
With trumpet sound and blazon fair, 

A summons 2 to proclaim ; 
But indistinct the pageant proud, 
As fancy forms of midnight cloud, 
When flings the moon upon her shroud 

A wavering tinge of flame ; 
It flits, expands, and shifts, till loud, 
From midmost of the specter crowd, 

This awful summons came : — 



XXVI. 

" Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer, 

Whose names I now shall call, 
Scottish or foreigner, give ear! 
Subjects of him who sent me here, 
At his tribunal to appear, 

I summon one and all : 
I cite you by each deadly sin 
That e'er hath soiled your hearts within ; 
I cite you by each brutal lust 
That e'er defiled your earthly dust, — 

1 Distinctly. 

2 This incident, Scott mentions, was spoken of by historians, and was 
probably a trick designed by those opposed to war to work upon the super- 
stitions of James. 



v.] M ARM ION. 141 

By wrath, by pride, by fear, 
By each o'er-mastering passion's tone, 
By the dark grave and dying groan! 
When forty days are passed and gone, 
I cite you, at your monarch's throne, 

To answer and appear." 
Then thundered forth a roll of names : — 
The first was thine, unhappy James! 

Then all thy nobles came, — 
Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle, 
Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle, — 
Why should I tell their separate style ? 1 

Each chief of birth and fame, 
Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle, 
Foredoomed to Flodden's carnage pile, 

Was cited there by name ; 
And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, 
Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye ; 
De Wilton, erst of Aberley, 
The self-same thundering voice did say. 

But then another spoke : 
" Thy fatal summons I deny, 
And thine infernal lord defy, 
Appealing me to Him on high, 

Who burst the sinner's yoke." 
At that dread accent, with a scream, 
Parted the pageant like a dream, 

The summoner was gone. 
Prone on her face the Abbess fell, 
And fast, and fast, her beads did tell ; 
Her nuns came, startled by the yell, 

And found her there alone. 
She marked not, at the scene aghast, 
What time, or how, the Palmer passed. 

1 Title. 



H 2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XXVII. 

Shift we the scene. — The camp doth move ; 

Dun-Edin's streets are empty now, 
Save when, for weal of those they love, 

To pray the prayer, and vow the vow, 
The tottering child, the anxious fair, 
The gray-haired sire, with pious care, 
To chapels and to shrines repair. — 
Where is the Palmer now? and where 
The Abbess, Marmion, and Clare? — 
Bold Douglas! to Tantallon fair 

They journey in thy charge : 
Lord Marmion rode on his right hand, 
The Palmer still was with the band ; 
Angus, like Lindesay, did command 

That none should roam at large. 
But in that Palmer's altered mien 
A wondrous change might now be seen ; 

Freely he spoke of war, 
Of marvels wrought by single hand 
When lifted for a native land, 
And still looked high, as if he planned 

Some desperate deed afar. 
His courser would he feed and stroke, 
And, tucking up his sable frock, 
Would first his mettle bold provoke, 

Then soothe or quell his pride. 
Old Hubert said that never one 
He saw, except Lord Marmion, 

A steed so fairly ride. 

XXVIII. 

Some half-hour's march behind, there came, 
By Eustace governed fair, 1 

1 " Governed fair," i.e., well commanded. 



v.] M ARM I ON. 14. 

A troop escorting Hilda's dame, 

With all her nuns and Clare. 
No audience had Lord Marmion sought ; 

Ever he feared to aggravate 

Clara de Clare's suspicious hate ; 
And safer 'twas, he thought, 

To wait till, from the nuns removed, 

The influence of kinsmen loved, 

And suit by Henry's self approved, 
Her slow consent had wrought. 

His was no flickering flame, that dies 

Unless when fanned by looks and sighs, 

And lighted oft at lady's eyes ; 

He longed to stretch his wide command 

O'er luckless Clara's ample land : 

Besides, when Wilton with him vied, 

Although the pang of humbled pride 

The place of jealousy supplied, 
Yet conquest, by that meanness 1 won 
He 2 almost loathed to think upon, 
Led him, at times, to hate the cause 3 
Which made him burst through honor's laws. 
If e'er he loved, 'twas her 4 alone 
Who died within that vault of stone. 



XXIX. 

And now, when close at hand they saw 
North Berwick's town 5 and lofty Law, 6 
Fitz-Eustace bade them pause awhile 
Before a venerable pile 7 

1 The forgery referred to in Stanza xxiii. 

2 Which he. 3 That is, Clare. 

4 Constance. 5 p/ ast f Edinburgh, near the North Sea. 

6 A hill in the vicinity of North Berwick. 

7 A Cistercian convent founded in 11 54. 



H4 SIJ? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Whose turrets viewed afar 
The lofty Bass, 1 the Lambie Isle, 1 

The ocean's peace or war. 
At tolling of a bell, forth came 
The convent's venerable dame, 
And prayed Saint Hilda's Abbess rest 
With her, a loved and honored guest, 
Till Douglas should a bark prepare 
To waft her back to Whitby fair. 
Glad was the Abbess, you may guess, 
And thanked the Scottish Prioress ; 
And tedious were to tell, I ween, 
The courteous speech that passed between. 

O'erjoyed, the nuns their palfreys leave ; 
But when fair Clara did intend, 
Like them, from horseback to descend, 

Fitz-Eustace said, " I grieve, 
Fair lady, grieve e'en from my heart, 
Such gentle company to part ; 

Think not discourtesy, 
But lords' commands must be obeyed ; 
And Marmion and the Douglas said 

That you must wend 2 with me. 
Lord Marmion hath a letter broad, 
Which to the Scottish earl he showed, 
Commanding, that, beneath his care, 
Without delay you shall repair 
To your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare." 

XXX. 

The startled Abbess loud exclaimed ; 
But she at whom the blow was aimed 
Grew pale as death, and cold as lead, — 

1 An island near North Berwick. 2 See Glossary. 



v.] M ARM I OX. 145 

She deemed she heard her death-doom read. 
" Cheer thee, my child! " the Abbess said, 
"They dare not tear thee from my hand, 
To ride alone with armed band." — 

" Nay, holy mother, nay," 
Fitz-Eustace said, " the lovely Clare 
Will be in Lady Angus' care, 

In Scotland while we stay ; 
And, when we move, an easy ride 
Will bring us to the English side, 
Female attendance to provide 

Befitting Gloster's heir; 
Nor thinks nor dreams my noble lord, 
By slightest look, or act, or word. 

To harass Lady Clare. 
Her faithful guardian he will be, 
Nor sue for slightest courtesy 

That e'en to stranger falls, 
Till he shall place her, safe and free, 

Within her kinsman's halls." 
He spoke, and blushed with earnest grace ; 
His faith was painted on his face, 

And Clare's worst fear relieved. 
The Lady Abbess loud exclaimed 
On 1 Henry, and the Douglas blamed, 

Entreated, threatened, grieved, 
To martyr, saint, and prophet prayed, 
Against Lord Marmion inveighed, 
And called the Prioress to aid, 
To curse with candle, bell, and book. 2 

1 Against. 

2 In the old form of excommunication, the dictum of expulsion was read 
by the priest, the bell was tolled as for the dead, and a lighted candle cast 
upon the floor, as symbolic of extinguishing the heavenly light in the soul cut 
off from the Church. 



H 6 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Her head the grave Cistercian 1 shook : 
" The Douglas and the King," she said, 
" In their commands will be obeyed ; 
Grieve not, nor dream that harm can fall 
The maiden in Tantallon hall." 



XXXI. 

The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, 
Assumed her wonted state 2 again, — 

For much of state she had, — 
Composed her veil, and raised her head, 
And — " Bid," in solemn voice she said, 

" Thy master, bold and bad, 
The records of his house turn o'er, 

And, when he shall there written see, 

That one of his own ancestry 3 

Drove the monks forth of 4 Coventry, 
Bid him his fate explore ! 

Prancing in pride of earthly trust, 

His charger hurled him to the dust, 

And, by a base plebeian thrust, 
He died his band before. 5 

God judge 'twixt Marmion and me ; 
x He is a chief of high degree, 

And I a poor recluse ; 

Yet oft in holy writ we see 

Even such weak minister as me 

1 Of the monastic order founded in 1098 at Cistercium (Citeaux, near 
Dijon), France. 

2 Dignity. 

3 Lord Robert de Marmion died in the reign of King Stephen of England. 
He drove out the monks from the church at Coventry. Afterwards, while 
engaged in war, his horse fell in a charge, and he himself was slain by a 
foot soldier. 

4 From. 5 That is, at the head of his followers. 



M ARM I ON. 14 7 

May the oppressor bruise ; 

For thus, inspired, did Judith 1 slay 
The mighty in his sin, 

And Jael 2 thus, and Deborah " 2 — 
Here hasty Blount broke in : 
" Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band ; 
Saint Anton fire thee ! 3 wilt thou stand 
All day, with bonnet in thy hand, 

To hear the lady preach ? 
By this good light ! :j if thus we stay, 
Lord Marmion, for our fond 4 delay, 

Will sharper sermon teach. 
Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse ; 
The dame must patience take perforce." — 

XXXII. 

" Submit we then to force," said Clare, 
" But let this barbarous lord despair 

His purposed aim to win ; 
Let him take living, land, and life ; 
But to be Marmion's wedded wife 

In me were deadly sin : 
And if it be the King's decree 
That I must find no sanctuary 5 
In that inviolable 6 dome, 7 



1 A celebrated Jewess who killed Holofernes, the Assyrian general, be- 
sieging Bethulia, her native town, and so saved the city (see the Book of 
Judith in the Apocrypha). 

2 See Judges iv. 

3 A common exclamation of impatience. " Saint Anthony's fire" was a 
name for erysipelas. 

4 Foolish. 5 pi aC e of refuge. 

6 Certain religious establishments had the privilege of affording the right 
of sanctuary; i.e., of affording refuge : hence they were inviolable. 

7 The Whitby Convent. 



H& SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Where even a homicide might come 

And safely rest his head, 
Though at its open portals stood, 
Thirsting to pour forth blood for blood, 

The kinsmen of the dead, 
Yet one asylum ! is my own 

Against the dreaded hour, — 
A low, a silent, and a lone, 

Where kings have little power. 
One victim 2 is before me there. — 
Mother, your blessing, and in prayer 
Remember your unhappy Clare! " 
Loud weeps the Abbess, and bestows 

Kind blessings many a one : 
Weeping and wailing loud arose, 
Round patient Clare, the clamorous woes 

Of every simple nun. 
His eyes the gentle Eustace dried, 
And scarce rude Blount the sight could bide. 

Then took the squire her rein, 
And gently led away her steed, 
And, by each courteous word and deed, 

To cheer her strove in vain. 



XXXIII. 

But scant 3 three miles the band had rode, 

When o'er a height they passed, 
And, sudden, 4 close before them showed 

His towers Tantallon vast, 

1 The grave. 

2 Referring to De Wilton, whom Clare thinks dead, or perhaps referring 
to Constance. 

3 Hardly. 

4 Suddenly. 



v.] MARMTON. 149 

Broad, massive, high, and stretching far, 

And held impregnable in war. 

On a projecting rock they rose, 

And round three sides the ocean flows ; 

The fourth did battled walls inclose, 

And double mound and fosse. 
By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong, 
Through studded l gates, an entrance long, 

To the main court they cross. 
It was a wide and stately square : 
Around were lodgings fit and fair, 

And towers of various form, 
Which on the court projected far, 
And broke its lines quadrangular. 
Here w T as square keep, there turret high, 
Or pinnacle that sought the sky, 
Whence oft the warder could descry 

The gathering ocean storm. 

xxxiv. 

Here did they rest. — The princely care 
Of Douglas, why should I declare, 
Or say they met reception fair? 

Or why the tidings say, 
Which, varying, to Tantallon came, 
By hurrying posts or fleeter fame, 2 

With every varying day? 
And, first, they heard King James had won 

Etall 3 and Wark 3 and Ford ; 3 and then 

That Norham Castle 4 strong was ta'en. 

1 Strengthened with nails. 

2 Rumor, swifter than messengers. 

3 A fortress on the Border. 

4 This fortress was taken by treachery. 



i$o SIA' WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

At that sore marveled Marmion, 

And Douglas hoped his monarch's hand 

Would soon subdue Northumberland ; 

But whispered news there came, 
That while his host inactive lay, 
And melted l by degrees away, 
King James was dallying off the day 

With Heron's wily dame. 
Such acts to chronicles I yield ; 

Go seek them there, and see : 
Mine is a tale of Flodden Field, 

And not a history. 
At length they heard the Scottish host 
On that high ridge had made their post 

Which frowns o'er Millfield Plain ; 2 
And that brave Surrey 3 many a band 
Had gathered in the Southern land, 
And marched into Northumberland, 

And camp at Wooler 4 ta'en. 
Marmion, like charger in the stall, 
That hears, without, the trumpet-call, 

Began to chafe and swear : 
" A sorry thing to hide my head 
In castle, like a fearful maid, 

When such a field is near! 
Needs must I see this battle day : 
Death to my fame if such a fray 
Were fought, and Marmion away! 
The Douglas, too, I wot 5 not why, 
Hath 'bated 6 of his courtesy : 

1 The Scotch soldiers took only forty days' rations, and, when these were 
exhausted, they returned home. 

2 At the foot of Flodden Hill. 3 Commander of the English Army. 

4 A town on the Cheviot Hills a few miles from Flodden. 

5 See Glossary. 6 Lessened. The reason appears later. 



vi.] MARMION. 151 

No longer in his halls I'll stay." 
Then bade his band they should array 
For march against the dawning day. 



CANTO SIXTH. 

THE BATTLE. 



WHILE great events were on the gale, 
And each hour brought a varying tale, 
And the demeanor, changed and cold, 
Of Douglas, fretted Marmion bold, 
And, like the impatient steed of war, 
He snuffed the battle from afar ; 
And hopes were none, that back again 
Herald should come from Terouenne, 1 
Where England's King in leaguer 2 lay, 
Before decisive battle day, — 
Whilst these things were, the mournful Clare 
Did in the dame's 3 devotions share : 
For the good countess ceaseless prayed 
To Heaven and saints her sons 4 to aid, 
And, with short interval, did pass 
From prayer to book, from book to mass, 
And all in high baronial pride, — 
A life both dull and dignified ; 
Yet as Lord Marmion nothing pressed 
Upon her intervals of rest, 

1 A town in France which Henry VIII. was besieging, situated thirty 
miles southeast of Calais. 

2 See Glossary. 3 Th e w ife of Douglas, Countess of Angus. 
4 Douglas's two sons perished at Flodden. 



I5 2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Dejected Clara well could bear 
The formal state, the lengthened prayer, 
Though dearest to her wounded heart 
The hours that she might spend apart. 



II. 

I said Tantallon's dizzy steep 

Hung o'er the margin of the deep. 

Many a rude tower and rampart there 

Repelled the insult of the air, 

Which, when the tempest vexed the sky, 

Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by. 

Above the rest a turret square 

Did o'er its Gothic entrance bear, 

Of sculpture rude, a stony shield ; 

The Bloody Heart 3 was in the field, 2 

And in the chief 2 three mullets 2 stood, 

The cognizance 2 of Douglas blood. 3 

The turret held a narrow stair, 

Which, mounted, gave you access where 

A parapet's 2 embattled row 

Did seaward round the castle go. 

Sometimes in dizzy steps descending, 

Sometimes in narrow circuit bending, 

Sometimes in platform broad extending, 

Its varying circle did combine 

Bulwark, and bartisan, 2 and line, 2 

And bastion, 2 tower, and vantage-coign ; 4 

Above the booming ocean leant 

The far-projecting battlement ; 

1 The Douglas coat of arms. The heart represented the heart of Robert , 
Bruce. Bruce, when dying, requested Lord James of Douglas to carry his * 
heart to the Holy Land. Lord James perished while performing this mission. 

2 See Glossary. 3 Family. 4 Advantageous corner. 



VI.] MARMION. 153 

The billows burst in ceaseless flow 

Upon the precipice below. 

Where'er Tantallon faced the land, 

Gate-works and walls were strongly manned ; 

No need upon the sea-girt side ; 

The steepy rock and frantic tide 

Approach of human step denied ; 

And thus these lines, and ramparts rude, 

Were left in deepest solitude. 

in. 

And, for l they were so lonely, Clare 
Would to these battlements repair, 
And muse upon her sorrows there, 

And list the sea bird's cry ; 
Or slow, like noontide ghost, would glide 
Along the dark-gray bulwarks' side, 
And ever on the heaving tide 

Look down with weary eye. 
Oft did the cliff and swelling main 
Recall the thoughts of Whitby's fane, 2 — 
A home she ne'er might see again ; 

For she had laid adown, 
So Douglas bade, the hood and veil, 
And frontlet 2 of the cloister pale, 3 

And Benedictine gown : 
It were unseemly 4 sight, he said, 
A novice out of convent shade. 
Now her bright locks, with sunny glow, 
Again adorned her brow of snow ; 
Her mantle rich, whose borders, round, 
A deep and fretted broidery bound, 

1 For the reason that. 2 See Glossary. 3 Modifies " frontlet." 

4 Unsuitable ; unfit. 



54 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

In golden foldings sought the ground ; 
Of holy ornament, alone 
Remained a cross with ruby stone ; 

And often did she look 
On that which in her hand she bore, 
With velvet bound, and broidered o'er, 

Her breviary x book. 
In such a place, so lone, so grim, 
At dawning pale, or twilight dim, 

It fearful would have been 
To meet a form so richly dressed, 
With book in hand, and cross on breast, 

And such a woeful mien. 
Fitz-Eustace, loitering with his bow, 
To practice on the gull and crow, 
Saw her at distance gliding slow, 

And did by Mary swear 
Some lovelorn fay she might have been, 
Or, in romance, some spellbound queen ; 
For ne'er in workday world was seen 

A form so witching fair. 



Once walking thus at evening tide, 
It chanced a gliding sail she spied, 
And, sighing, thought, " The Abbess there, 
Perchance, does to her home repair ; 
Her peaceful rule, where Duty, free, 
Walks hand in hand with Charity ; 
Where oft Devotion's tranced glow 
Can such a glimpse of heaven bestow 
That the enraptured sisters see 
High vision and deep mystery ; 

1 See Glossary. 



vi.] MARMION. 155 

The very form of Hilda 1 fair, 

Hovering upon the sunny air, 

And smiling on her votaries' prayer. 

Oh, wherefore, to my duller eye, 

Did still the Saint her form deny ! 

Was it, that, seared by sinful scorn, 

My heart could neither melt nor burn ? 

Or lie my warm affections low, 

With him, that taught them first to glow ? 

Yet, gentle Abbess, well I knew 

To pay thy kindness grateful due, 

And well could brook the mild command 

That ruled thy simple maiden band. 

How different now, condemned to bide 

My doom from this dark tyrant's 2 pride! 

But Marmion has to learn, ere long, 

That constant mind, and hate of wrong, 

Descended to a feeble girl 

From Red De Clare, 3 stout Gloster's Earl : 

Of such a stem, a sapling weak, 

He ne'er shall bend, although he break. 



" But see! what makes 4 this armor here ? " — 

For in her path there lay 
Targe, corselet, helm : she viewed them near. — 
"The breastplate pierced! Ay, much I fear, 
Weak fence 5 wert thou 'gainst foeman's spear, 

1 The reflection of the morning sun in summer on one of the windows in 
Whitby Abbey produced, it is said, an effect popularly believed to resemble 
the glorified image of Saint Hilda. 

2 Marmion, or possibly Henry VIII. (see Canto II. xxix. lines 4-6). 

3 Gilbert De Clare, Earl of Gloucester, whose father, Richard De Clare, 
was prominent in the Barons' war against Henry III. 

4 " What makes," i.e., why is. 5 Defense. 



156 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

That hath made fatal entrance here, 

As these dark blood-gouts 1 say. — 
Thus Wilton! Oh! not corselet's ward, 
Not truth, as diamond pure and hard, 
Could be thy manly bosom's guard 

On. yon disastrous day!" 
She raised her eyes in mournful mood, — 
Wilton himself before her stood! 
It might have seemed his passing ghost, 
For every youthful grace was lost ; 
And joy unwonted, and surprise, 
Gave their strange wildness to his eyes. 
Expect not, noble dames and lords, 
That I can tell such scene in words : 
What skillful limner e'er would choose 
To paint the rainbow's varying hues, 
Unless to mortal it were given 
To dip his brush in dyes of heaven ? 
Far less can my weak line declare 

Each changing passion's shade ; 
Brightening to rapture from despair, 
Sorrow, surprise, and pity there, 
And joy, with her angelic air, 
And hope, that paints the future fair, 

Their varying hues displayed : 
Each o'er its rival's ground extending, 
Alternate 2 conquering, shifting, blending, 
Till all, fatigued, the conflict yield, 
And mighty Love retains the field. 
Shortly I tell what then he said, 
By many a tender word delayed, 
And modest blush, and bursting sigh, 
And question kind, and fond reply : — 

1 Blood spots. 2 Used for " alternately," meaning by turns. 



vi.] M ARM I ON. 157 



VI, 



DE WILTON S HISTORY. 



" Forget we that disastrous day 
When senseless in the lists I lay. 

Thence dragged, — but how I cannot know, 
For sense and recollection fled, — 

I found me on a pallet low, 

Within my ancient beadsman's x shed. 

Austin, — remember'st thou, my Clare, 
How thou didst blush when the old man, 
When first our infant love began, 

Said we would make a matchless pair ? — 
Menials and friends and kinsmen fled 
From the degraded traitor's bed, — 
He only held my burning head, 
And tended me for many a day, 
While wounds and fever held their sway. 
But far more needful was his care 
When sense returned to wake despair ; 

For I did tear the closing wound, 

And dash me frantic on the ground, 
If e'er I heard the name of Clare. 
At length, to calmer reason brought, 
Much by his kind attendance wrought, 

With him I left my native strand, 
And, in a palmer's weeds 1 arrayed 
My hated name and form to shade, 2 

I journeyed 3 many a land ; 
No more a lord of rank and birth, 
But mingled with the dregs of earth. 



•-& 



1 See Glossary. 2 Disguise ; conceal. 

3 A transitive form of the verb. 



*5 8 SIR WAITER SCOTT. .[canto 

Oft Austin for my reason feared, 
When I would sit, and d,eeply brood 
On dark revenge, and deeds of blood, 

Or wild mad schemes upreared. 
My friend at length fell sick, and said 

God would remove him soon ; 
And, while upon his dying bed, 

He begged of me a boon, 1 — 
If e'er my deadliest enemy 
Beneath my brand should conquered lie, 
Even then my mercy should awake, 
And spare his life for Austin's sake. 

VII. 

" Still restless as a second Cain, 

To Scotland next my route was ta'en, 

Full well the paths I knew. 
Fame of my fate made various sound, 
That death in pilgrimage I found, 
That I had perished of my wound, — 

None cared which tale was true : 
And living eye could never guess 
De Wilton in his palmer's dress ; 
For now that sable slough 2 is shed, 
And trimmed my shaggy beard and head, 
I scarcely know me in the glass. 
A chance most wondrous did provide 
That I should be that baron's guide — 

I will not name his name! — 
Vengeance to God alone belongs ; 
But, when I think on all my wrongs, 

1 Favor ; literally, a prayer. 

2 The cast-off skin of a snake, by which De Wilton here means his palmer's 
dress. 



vi.] MA KM I OX. 159 

My blood is liquid flame! 
And ne'er the time shall I forget, 
When, in a Scottish hostel set, 

Dark looks we did exchange : 
"What were his thoughts I cannot tell ; 
But in my bosom mustered hell 

Its plans of dark revenge. 

VIII. 

" A word of vulgar 1 augury, 2 

That broke from me, I scarce knew why, 

Brought on a village tale, 
Which wrought upon his moody sprite, 3 
And sent him armed forth by night. 

I borrowed steed and mail 
And weapons from his sleeping band ; 

And, passing from a postern door, 
We met and 'countered, hand to hand, — 

He fell on Gifford-moor. 
For the death stroke my brand I drew, 
(Oh! then my helmed head he knew, 

The palmer's cowl was gone,) 
Then had three inches of my blade 
The heavy debt of vengeance paid, — 
My hand the thought of Austin stayed ; 

I left him there alone. — 
O good old man! even from the grave 
Thy spirit could thy master save : 
If I had slain my foeman, ne'er 
Had Whitby's Abbess, in her fear, 
Given to my hand this packet dear, 

1 Common (Latin, vtilgus, " crowd of people"). 

2 Omen ; superstition. De Wilton refers to his remark in Canto III. 
xiii. : " The death of a dear friend." 3 Spirit. 



160 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Of power to clear my injured fame, 
And vindicate De Wilton's name. — 
Perchance you heard the Abbess tell 
Of the strange pageantry of hell l 

That broke our secret speech — 
It rose from the infernal shade, 
Or featly 2 was some juggle played, 

A tale of peace to teach. 
Appeal to Heaven I judged was best, 
When my name came among the rest. 

IX. 

" Now here, within Tantallon hold, 
To Douglas late my tale I told, 
To whom my house was known of old. 
Won by my proofs, his falchion bright 
This eve anew shall dub 2 me knight. 
These were the arms that once did turn 
The tide of fight 3 on Otterburne, 
And Harry Hotspur forced to yield, 
When the dead Douglas won the field. 
These Angus gave — his armorer's care, 
Ere morn, shall every breach repair ; 
For naught, he said, was in his halls, 
But ancient armor on the walls, 
And aged chargers in the stalls, 
And women, priests, and gray-haired men ; 
The rest were all in Twisel glen. 4 

1 See Canto V. xxv. 2 See Glossary. 

3 A hotly contested battle (August, 1388) between the Scotch under a 
Douglas, and the English under Sir Harry Percy (surnamed "Hotspur" 
from his quick temper). Douglas perished; but his death being concealed, 
that it might not discourage, the Scotch finally won. Thus it is said, an 
old prophecy was fulfilled that a dead Douglas should " win a field." 

4 In England, where the Till and Tweed join. James encamped there 
before going to Flodden. 



vi. ] MA RMION. 1 6 1 

And now I watch my armor here, 
By law of arms, till midnight's near; 1 
Then, once again a belted 2 knight, 
Seek Surrey's camp with dawn of light. 

x. 

"There soon again we meet, my Clare! 
This baron means to guide thee there : 
Douglas reveres his King's command, 
Else would he take thee from his band. 
And there thy kinsman Surrey, too, 
Will give De Wilton justice due. 
Now meeter far for martial broil, 
Firmer my limbs, and strung by toil, 
Once more " — " O Wilton! must we then 
Risk new-found happiness again, 

Trust fate of arms once more? 
And is there not an humble glen, 

Where we, content and poor, 
Might build a cottage in the shade, 
A shepherd thou, and I to aid 

Thy task on dale and moor? — 
That reddening brow! — too well I know, 
Not even thy Clare can peace bestow, 

While falsehood stains thy name : 
Go then to fight! Clare bids thee go! 
Clare can a warrior's feelings know, 

And weep a warrior's shame ; 
Can Red Earl Gilbert's spirit feel, 
Buckle the spurs upon thy heel, 
And belt thee with thy brand of steel, 

And send thee forth to fame ! " 

1 The candidate for knighthood was compelled by the rules of chivalry to 
keep watch over his arms the night before receiving the honor. 

2 The belt was a badge of knighthood, like the golden spurs. 

II 



1 62 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 

XI. 

That night upon the rocks and bay 
The midnight moonbeam slumbering lay, 
And poured its silver light, and pure,' 
Through loophole and through embrasure, 1 

Upon Tantallon tower and hall ; 
But chief where arched windows wide 
Illuminate the chapel's pride, 2 

The sober glances 3 fall. 
Much was there need ; though seamed with scars, 
Two veterans of the Douglas' wars, 

Though two gray priests were there, 
And each a blazing torch held high, 
You could not by their blaze descry 

The chapel's carving fair. 
Amid that dim and smoky light, 
Checkering the silvery moonshine bright, 

A bishop 4 by the altar stood, 

A noble lord of Douglas blood, 
With miter sheen, and rochet 1 white. 
Yet showed his meek and thoughtful eye 
But little pride of prelacy ; 
More pleased that, in a barbarous age, 
He gave rude Scotland Virgil's page, 
Than that beneath his rule he held 
The bishopric of fair Dunkeld. 
Beside him ancient Angus stood, 
Doffed his furred gown and sable hood .- 
O'er his huge form and visage pale 
He wore a cap and shirt of mail, 

1 See Glossary. 2 Beauty. 3 Soft, subdued rays. 

4 Gavin (or Gawin) Douglas, born about 1474, a son of Earl Angus, 
and Bishop of Dunkeld (about 1515). He possessed literary ability, and 
translated Virgil's ^Eneid into Scotch verse with spirit and fidelity. 



] MARMION. 163 

And leaned his large and wrinkled hand 
Upon the huge and sweeping brand 
Which wont of yore, in battle fray, 
His foeman's limbs to shred away, 
As wood-knife lops the sapling spray. 1 
He seemed as, from the tombs around 

Rising at judgment day, 
Some giant Douglas may be found 

In all his old array ; 
So pale his face, so huge his limb, 
So old his arms, his look so grim. 

XII. 

Then at the altar Wilton kneels, 
And Clare the spurs bound on his heels ; 
And think what next he must have felt 
At buckling of the falchion belt! 

And judge how Clara changed her hue 
While fastening to her lover's side 
A friend, which, though in danger tried, 

He once had found untrue! 
Then Douglas struck him with his blade : 
" Saint Michael and Saint Andrew aid, 

I dub thee knight. 
Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton's heir! 
For King, for Church, for lady fair, 

See that thou fight." 2 
And Bishop Gawain, as he rose, 
Said, " Wilton ! grieve not for thy woes, 

Disgrace, and trouble ; 
For he who honor best bestows 

May give thee double." 
De Wilton sobbed, for sob he must : 

1 See Glossary. 

2 " I dub thee," etc. The usual formula used in conferring knighthood. 






1 64 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

" Where'er I meet a Douglas, trust 

That Douglas is my brother! " — 
" Nay, nay," old Angus said, " not so ; 
To Surrey's camp thou now must go, 

Thy wrongs no longer smother. 
I have two sons in yonder field ; 
And, if thou meet'st them under shield, 1 
Upon them bravely — do thy worst ; 
And foul fall him that blenches 2 first! " 



XIII. 

Not far advanced was morning day, 
When Marmion did his troop array 

To Surrey's camp to ride ; 
He had safe-conduct 3 for his band 
Beneath the royal seal and hand, 

And Douglas gave a guide : 
The ancient earl, with stately grace, 
Would Clara on her palfrey place, 
And whispered in an undertone, 
" Let the hawk 4 stoop, 3 his prey 5 is flown." 
The train from out the castle drew, 
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu : 

" Though something I might plain," 6 he said, 
" Of cold respect to stranger guest, 
Sent hither by your King's behest, 

While in Tantallon's towers I staid, 
Part we in friendship from your land, 
And, noble earl, receive my hand." 
But Douglas round him drew his cloak, 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : 

1 " Under shield," i.e., in battle. 

2 " Foul fall him," etc., i.e., evil come upon him that shrinks. 

3 See Glossary. ± Marmion. 5 De Wilton. 6 Complain. 



VI.] M ARM I ON. 165 

" My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 
Be open, at my sovereign's will, 
To each one whom he lists, howe'er 
Unmeet l to be the owner's peer. 2 
My castles are my King's alone, 
From turret to foundation-stone — 
The hand of Douglas is his own, 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp." 

XIV. 

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, 
And shook his very frame for ire, 

And — "This to me!" he said, — 
" An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas' head! 
And first I tell thee, haughty peer, 
He who does England's message here, 
Athough the meanest in her state, 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate ; 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, 

Even in thy pitch 3 of pride, 
Here in thy hold, 4 thy vassals near, 
(Nay, never look upon your lord, 
And lay your hands upon your sword, 5 ) 

I tell thee, thou'rt defied! 
And if thou saidst I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here, 
Lowland or Highland, far or near, 

Lord Angus, thou hast lied! " 
On the earl's cheek the flush of rage 

1 Unworthy. 2 Equal in rank. 3 Height. 4 See Glossary. 

5 " Nay, never," etc. Words addressed to the vassals. 



1 66 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

O'ercame the ashen hue of age : 

Fierce he broke forth : "And darest thou then 

To beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his hall ? 
And hopest thou hence unscathed 1 to go? 
No, by Saint Bride 2 of Bothwell, no! 
Up drawbridge, grooms — what, warder, ho! 

Let the portcullis fall." 
Lord Marmion turned, — w T ell was his need, — 
And dashed the rowels 3 in his steed ; 
Like arrow through the archway sprung, 
The ponderous grate 4 behind him rung: 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars descending rased 3 his plume. 

xv. 

The steed along the drawbridge flies, 

Just as it trembled on the rise ; 

Nor lighter does the swallow skim 

Along the smooth lake's level brim : 

And when Lord Marmion reached his band, 

He halts, and turns with clinched hand, 

And shout of loud defiance pours, 

And shook his gauntlet 3 " at the towers. 

" Horse, horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!" 

But soon he reined his fury's pace : 

" A royal messenger he came, 

Though most unworthy of the name. — 

A letter forged! Saint Jude to speed! 5 

Did ever knight so foul a deed! 



1 Uninjured (Anglo-Saxon, sceat/ian, "injure"). 

2 Saint Bridget of Ireland. 3 See Glossary. 

4 Portcullis grating. 

5 " Saint Jude," etc., i.e., Saint Jude (Judas) defend me! 



vi.] M ARM I ON. iCj 

At first in heart it liked me ill 

When the King praised his clerkly skill. 

Thanks to Saint Bothan, 1 son of mine, 

Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line : 

So swore I, and I swear it still, 

Let my boy-bishop fret his fill. — 

Saint Mary mend my fiery mood! 

Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, 

I thought to slay him where he stood. 

'Tis pity of him too," he cried : 

" Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, 

I warrant him a warrior tried." 

With this his mandate he recalls, 

And slowly seeks his castle halls. 



XVI. 

The day in Marmion's journey wore ; 
Yet, ere his passion's gust was o'er, 
They crossed the heights of Stanrig-moor. 
His troop more closely there he scanned, 
And missed the Palmer from the band. 
" Palmer or not," young Blount did say, 
" He parted at the peep of day ; 
Good sooth, it was in strange array." — 
" In what array ? " said Marmion quick. 
" My lord, I ill can spell the trick; 3 
But all night long, with clink and bang, 
Close to my couch did hammers clang ; 
At dawn the falling drawbridge rang, 



1 A monk, said to have lived at Iona, one of the Hebrides. His name is 
preserved in the Abbey Saint Bathan, of Berwickshire, a Cistercian nunnery 
having been dedicated to him. 

2 South of Tantallon. 

3 " Spell the trick," i.e., explain the mystery. 



1 68 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

And from a loophole while I peep, 

Old Bell-the-Cat came from the keep, 

Wrapped in a gown of sables 1 fair, 

As fearful of the morning air ; 

Beneath, when that was blown aside, 

A rusty shirt of mail I spied, 

By Archibald w r on in bloody work 

Against the Saracen 2 and Turk : 

Last night it hung not in the hall ; 

I thought some marvel would befall, 

And next I saw them saddled lead 

Old Cheviot forth, the earl's best steed, 

A matchless horse, though something old, 

Prompt to his paces, cool and bold. 

I heard the Sheriff Sholto 3 say 

The earl did much the Master 4 pray 

To use him on the battle day ; 

But he preferred " — " Nay, Henry, 5 cease! 

Thou sworn horse 6 courser, hold thy peace. — 

Eustace, thou bear'st a brain — I pray, 

What did Blount see at break of day ?" — 

XVII. 

" In brief, my lord, we both descried 
(For then I stood by Henry's side) 
The Palmer mount, and outwards ride, 

Upon the earl's own favorite steed. 
Ail sheathed he was in armor bright, 
And much resembled that same knight 



1 Black lustrous furs. 2 An Arabian ; a Mohammedan. 

3 A common Christian name in the Douglas family ; probably a young son 
of the earl. 

4 The earl's oldest son, who was away with King James. 

5 Blount. 6 See Glossary. 



vi.] M ARM ION. 169 

Subdued by you in Cotswold fight: 

Lord Angus wished him speed." 
The instant that Fitz-Eustace spoke, 
A sudden light on Marmion broke : 
"Ah! dastard fool, to reason lost!" 
He muttered ; " t'was nor fay nor ghost 
I met upon the moonlight wold, 1 
But living man of earthly mold. — 

O dotage 2 blind and gross ! 
Had I but fought as wont, 3 one thrust 
Had laid De Wilton in the dust, 

My path no more to cross. — 
How stand we now ? — He told his tale 
To Douglas, and with some avail : 

'Twas therefore gloomed his rugged brow. 4 — 
Will Surrey dare to entertain, 
'Gainst Marmion, charge disproved 5 and vain ? 

Small risk of that, I trow. 
Yet Clare's sharp questions must I shun, 
Must separate Constance from the Nun G — 
Oh, what a tangled web we weave 
When first we practice to deceive! 
A Palmer too ! no wonder why 
I felt rebuked beneath his eye : 
I might have known there was but one 
Whose look could quell Lord Marmion." 

1 See Canto IV. xix. 2 Folly. 3 Usually. 

4 " 'Twas therefore," etc., i.e., that was the reason of his (Douglas's) 
coolness. 

5 Shown to be false; i.e., in the lists at Cottiswold, when De Wilton was 
vanquished in combat by Marmion. 

6 The Abbess of Saint Hilda. Marmion, ignorant of Constance's fate, 
thinks her still alive at Lindisfarne. Fearing the Abbess may visit Holy 
Island on her return to Whitby, and learn from Constance more definitely of 
the forgery, he thinks such a contingency may be prevented by withdrawing 
Constance from Lindisfarne. 



17° SZJ? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 



XVIII. 

Stung with these thoughts, he urged to speed 
His troop, and reached at eve the Tweed, 
Where Lennel's 1 convent closed their march. 
(There now is left but one frail arch, 

Yet mourn thou not its cells ; 
Our time a fair exchange has made: 
Hard by, in hospitable shade, 

A reverend pilgrim 2 dwells, 
Well worth the whole Bernardine 3 brood, 
That e'er w^ore sandal, frock, or hood.) 
Yet did Saint Bernard's Abbot there 
Give Marmion entertainment fair, 
And lodging for his train and Clare. 
Next morn the baron climbed the tower, 
To view afar the Scottish power, 

Encamped on Flodden edge : 4 
The white pavilions made a show, 
Like remnants of the winter snow, 

Along the dusky ridge. 
Lord Marmion looked : at length his eye 
Unusual movement might descry 

Amid the shifting lines : 
The Scottish host drawn out appears, 
For, flashing on the hedge of spears, 

The eastern sunbeam shines. 
Their front now deepening, now extending, 
Their flank inclining, wheeling, bending, 
Now drawing back, and now descending, 

1 A Cistercian convent in Scotland, near Flodden. 

2 Patrick Brydone, a literary man, and a friend of Scott. 

3 Saint Bernard was a celebrated Cistercian monk of the twelfth century. 

4 The easterly declivity of the Cheviots, Flodden Hill. 



vi.] M ARM ION. 17 l 

The skillful Marmion well could know 
They watched the motions of some foe 
Who traversed 1 on the plain below. 

XIX. 

Even so it was. From Flodden ridge 
The Scots beheld the English host 
Leave Barmore-wood, 2 their evening post, 
And heedful watched them as they crossed 

The Till by Twisel Bridge. 3 

High sight it is, and haughty, 4 while 
They dive into the deep defile ; 
Beneath the caverned cliff they fall, 
Beneath the castle's 5 airy wall. 

By rock, by oak, by hawthorn-tree, 
Troop after troop are disappearing; 6 
Troop after troop their banners rearing, 

Upon the eastern bank you see ; 

Still pouring down the rocky den 
Where flows the sullen Till, 

And rising from the dim-wood glen, 

Standards on standards, men on men, 
In slow succession still, 

And sweeping o'er the Gothic arch, 7 

And pressing on, in ceaseless march, 
To gain the opposing hill. 

That morn, to many a trumpet clang, 

1 See Glossary. 2 Opposite Flodden Field, on the other side of the Till. 

3 Near the point where the Till joins the Tweed. The English Army, 
by this flank movement from Wooler around Flodden, had placed itself be- 
tween James and his base of supplies (see map, p. 16). • 

4 Bold. 5 Twisel Castle. 

6 Scott probably thought this was an excellent opportunity for the Scotch 
to attack, as the crossing was slow and difficult. 

7 That is, the Gothic arch of the bridge : hence the bridge itself. 



I7 2 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

Twisel! thy rock's deep echo rang; 
And many a chief of birth and rank, 
Saint Helen! 1 at thy fountain drank. 
Thy hawthorn glade, which now we see 
In springtide bloom so lavishly, 
Had then from many an ax its doom, 
To give the marching columns room. 



xx. 

And why stands Scotland idly 2 now, 
Dark Flodden ! on thy airy brow, 
Since England gains the pass the while, 
And struggles through the deep defile? 
What checks the fiery soul of James ? 
Why sits that champion of the dames 

Inactive on his steed, 
And sees, between him and his land, 
Between him and Tweed's southern strand, 

His host Lord Surrey lead? 
What 'vails the vain knight-errant's brand? 
O Douglas, for thy leading wand! 3 

Fierce Randolph, 4 for thy speed ! 
Oh for one hour of W T allace 5 wight, 
Or well-skilled Bruce, to rule the fight, 
And cry, " Saint Andrew 6 and our right! " 
Another sight had seen that morn, 
From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, 
And Flodden had been Bannockbourne! 7 



1 Near the bridge, says Scott, was a fountain called Saint Helen's Well. 

2 Neglecting this favorable opportunity to attack. 

3 See Glossary. 4 A famous lieutenant of Bruce. 
5 See Note 2, p. 84. 6 Patron saint of Scotland. 

7 In southern Scotland, near Stirling. Here, June 24, 1 3 14, Bruce, by 
superior generalship, defeated the English under Edward II. 



vi.] MARMION. 173 

The precious hour has passed in vain, 
And England's host has gained the plain, 
Wheeling their march, and circling still, 
Around the base of Flodden hill. 



XXI. 

Ere yet the bands met Marmion's eye, 
Fitz-Eustace shouted loud and high, 
" Hark, hark! my lord, an English drum! 
And see ascending squadrons come 

Between Tweed's river and the hill, 
Foot, horse, and cannon. Hap what hap, 1 
My basnet 2 to a prentice cap, 

Lord Surrey's o'er the Till! — 
Yet more ! yet more ! — how far arrayed 
They file from out the hawthorn shade, 

And sweep so gallant by! 
With all their banners bravely spread, 

And all their armor flashing high, 
Saint George might waken from the dead, 

To see fair England's standards fly." — 
" Stint in thy prate," 3 quoth Blount, " thou'dst best, 
And listen to our lord's behest." 
With kindling brow Lord Marmion said, 
" This instant be our band arrayed ; 
The river must be quickly crossed, 
That we may join Lord Surrey's host. 
If fight King James, — as well I trust 
That fight he will, and fight he must, — 
The Lady Clare behind our lines 
Shall tarry, while the battle joins." 



1 < 



Hap what hap," i.e., happen what may. 

2 See Glossary, 

3 " Stint in thy prate," i.e., keep quiet. 



174 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 

XXII. 

Himself he swift on horseback threw, 
Scarce to the Abbot |^ade adieu, 
Far less would listen to his prayer 
To leave behind the helpless Clare. 
Down to the Tweed his band he drew, 
And muttered as the flood they view, 
"The pheasant 1 in the falcon's 2 claw, 
He scarce will yield to please a daw : 3 
Lord Angus may the Abbot awe, 4 

So Clare shall bide with me." 
Then on that dangerous ford, and deep, 
Where to the Tweed Leat's 5 eddies creep, 

He ventured desperately. 
And not a moment will he bide, 
Till squire, or groom, before him ride ; 
Headmost of all he stems the tide, 

And steins it gallantly. 
Eustace held Clare upon her horse, 

Old Hubert led her rein, 
Stoutly they braved the current's course, 
And, though far downward driven perforce, 

The southern bank they gain. 
Behind them, straggling, came to shore, 

As best they might, the train : 
Each o'er his head his yew-bow bore, 

A caution not in vain ; 
Deep need that day that every string, 
By wet unharmed, should sharply ring. 

1 Clare. 

2 Marmion's. His crest was a falcon (see Canto T. vi.). 

3 The Abbot. For daw see Glossary. 

4 That is, the Abbot might be compelled by Angus to give up Clare. 

5 A small branch of the Tweed. 



vi.] " M ARM ION. 

A moment then Lord Marmion staid, 
And breathed his steed, his men arrayed, 

Then forward moved his band, 
Until, Lord Surrey's rearguard won, 
He halted by a cross of stone, 
That, on a hillock standing lone, 

Did all the field command. 

XXIII. 

Hence might they see the full array 

Of either host, for deadly fray ; 

Their marshaled lines stretched east and west, 

And fronted 1 north and south, 
And distant salutation passed 

From the loud cannon mouth ; 
Not in the close successive rattle, 
That breathes the voice of modern battle, 

But slow and far between. 
The hillock gained, Lord Marmion staid : 
" Here, by this cross," he gently said, 

" You well may view the scene. 
Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare : 
Oh, think of Marmion in thy prayer! — 
Thou wilt not ? — well, no less my care 
Shall, watchful, for thy weal 2 prepare. — 
You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard, 

With ten picked archers of my train ; 
With England if the day go hard, 

To Berwick speed amain. 3 — 
But if we conquer, cruel maid, 
My spoils shall at your feet be laid, 

When here we meet again. " 



1 The English faced south ; the Scotch, north (see map, p. 16). 

2 Welfare. 3 With all haste. 



i? 6 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

He waited not for answer there, 

And would not mark the maid's despair, 

Nor heed the discontented l look 
From either squire, but spurred amain, 
And, dashing through the battle plain, 

His way to Surrey took. 

XXIV. 

"The good Lord Marmion, 2 by my life! 

Welcome to danger's hour ! — 
Short greeting serves in time of strife.— 

Thus have I ranged my power : 3 
Myself will rule this central host, 

Stout Stanley fronts their right, 4 
My sons command the vaward post, 5 

With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight ; 6 

Lord Dacre, with his horsemen light, 

Shall be in rearward of the fight, 
And succor those that need it most. 

Now, gallant Marmion, well I know, 

Would gladly to the vanguard go ; 
Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there, 
With thee their charge will blithely share ; 
There fight thine own retainers too, 
Beneath De Burg, thy steward true." — 
"Thanks, noble Surrey!" Marmion said, 
Nor further greeting there he paid, 

1 Discontented, because they were not to take part in the battle. 

2 Marmion is greeted by Surrey. 

3 Forces. They were in four divisions. 

4 That is, he held the English left wing. 

5 Thomas Howard, admiral of England ; and Sir Edmund Howard, knight 
marshal of the army, — held the English right wing, here the " vaward" or 
forward post. 

6 An English nobleman slain at Flodden. Called the " Undefiled." 



vi. J M ARM ION. 177 

But, parting like a thunderbolt, 
First in the vanguard made a halt, 

Where, such a shout there rose 
Of " Marmion, Marmion! " that the cry, 
Up Flodden mountain shrilling high, 

Startled the Scottish foes. 



XXV; 

Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still 
With Lady Clare upon the hill, 
On which (for far the day was spent) 
The western sunbeams now were bent. 
The cry they heard, its meaning knew, 
Could plain their distant comrades view : 
Sadly to Blount did Eustace say, 
" Unworthy office here to stay! 
No hope of gilded spurs 1 to-day. — 
But see ! look up — on Flodden bent 2 
The Scottish foe has fired his tent." 3 

And sudden, as he spoke, 
From the sharp ridges of the hill, 
All downward to the banks of Till 

Was wreathed in sable smoke. 
Volumed and vast, and rolling far, 
The cloud enveloped Scotland's war, 4 

As down the hill they broke ; 
Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, 
Announced their march ; their tread alone, 



1 That is, of winning knighthood. 

2 See Glossary. 

3 The Sc(^ch set fire to their tents before leaving Flodden ridge, thus pre- 
venting retreat, and covering, with the smoke, the march of the army down 
the hill. 

4 Warriors. 

12 



I7 8 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

At times one warning trumpet blown, 

At times a stifled hum, 
Told England, from his mountain-throne 1 

King James did rushing come. — 
Scarce could they hear, or see their foes, 
Until at weapon-point they close. — 
They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, 
With sword-sway 2 and with lance's thrust ; 

And such a yell was there, 

Of sudden and portentous birth, 

' As if men fought upon the earth, 

And fiends in upper air ; 
Oh, life and death were in the shout, 
Recoil and rally, charge and rout, 

And triumph and despair. 
Long looked the anxious squires ; their eye 
Could in the darkness naught descry. 

XXVI. 

At length the freshening western blast 
Aside the shroud of battle cast ; 
And, first, the ridge of mingled spears 
Above the brightening cloud appears ; 
And in the smoke the pennons flew, 
As in the storm the white sea 3 mew. 
Then marked they, dashing broad and far, 
The broken billows of the war, 
And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 
Floating like foam upon the wave ; 

But naught distinct they see : 
Wide raged the battle on the plain ; 
Spears shook, and falchions flashed amaii|; 

1 Referring to his strong position on Flodden Hill. 

2 The sweep of the sword. 3 See Glossary. 



VI.] M ARM ION. 179 

Fell England's arrow-flight like rain ; 
Crests rose, and stooped, and rose again, 

Wild and disorderly. 
Amid the scene of tumult, high 
They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly : 
And stainless Tunstall's banner white, 
And Edmund Howard's lion bright, 
Still bear them bravely in the fight ; 

Although against them come, 
Of gallant Gordons many a one, 
And many a stubborn Badenoch l man, 
And many a rugged Border clan, 

With Huntly, and with Home. 2 

XXVII. 

Far on the left, unseen the while, 
Stanley broke 3 Lennox and Argyle ; 
Though there the western mountaineer 
Rushed with bare bosom on the spear, 
And flung the feeble targe aside, 
And with both hands the broadsword plied. 
'Twas vain. But Fortune, on the right, 4 
With fickle smile, cheered Scotland's fight. 
Then fell that spotless banner white, 

The Howard's lion fell ; 5 
Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew 

1 A district of the Scottish Highlands. 

2 The Scotch were in three divisions, — the right headed by Lennox and 
Argyle ; the center, by James ; the left, by the Earls of Huntly and Home. 

3 That is, Stanley, with the English left, scattered the Highlanders on 
the Scotch right. Stanley then turned to attack the King on the flank. 

4 Huntly and Home charged Sir Edmund Howard fiercely on the Eng- 
lish right, routing that Ming. 

5 Sir Edmund's standard was beaten down, and he himself narrowly 
escaped to the division of his brother, the admiral. 



180 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

With wavering flight, while fiercer grew 

. Around the battle yell. 
The Border slogan l rent the sky ! 
A Home! a Gordon! was the cry: 

Loud were the clanging blows ; 
Advanced, — forced back, — now low, now high, 

The pennon sunk and rose ; 
As bends the bark's mast in the gale, 
When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, 

It w r avered 'mid the foes. ■ 
No longer Blount the view could bear : 
" By heaven and all its saints! I swear 

I will not see it lost! 
Fitz- Eustace, you with Lady Clare 
May bid your beads, and patter prayer,- — 

I gallop to the host." 
And to the fray he rode amain, 
Followed by all the archer train. 
The fiery youth, with desperate charge, 
Made, for a space, an opening large, — 
. The rescued banner rose, — 
But darkly closed the war around, 
Like pine tree rooted from the ground, 

It sank among the foes. 
Then Eustace mounted too, — yet staid, 
As loath to leave the helpless maid, 

When, fast as shaft can fly, 
Bloodshot his eyes, his nostrils spread, 
The loose rein dangling from his head, 
Housing and saddle bloody red, 

Lord Marmion's steed rushed by ; 



1 See Glossary. 

2 " Bid your beads and patter prayer," i.e., count your beads, and mutter 
prayer. 



vi.] M ARM I OX. 181 

And Eustace, maddening at the sight, 
A look and sign to Clara cast, 
To mark he would return in haste, 

Then plunged into the fight. 

xxvm. 

Ask me not what the maiden feels, 
Left in that dreadful hour alone : 

Perchance her reason stoops or reels ; 
Perchance a courage, not her own, 
Braces her mind to desperate tone. — 

The scattered van of England wheels ; — 
She only said, as loud in air 
The tumult roared, " Is Wilton there ? " — 
They fly, or, maddened by despair, 
Fight but to die, — " Is Wilton there ? " 

With that, straight up the hill there rode 
Two horsemen drenched with gore, 

And in their arms, a helpless load, 
A wounded knight they bore. 

His hand still strained 1 the broken brand ; 

His arms were smeared with blood and sand. 

Dragged from among the horses' feet, 

With dinted 2 shield, and helmet beat, 3 

The falcon-crest and plumage gone, 

Can that be haughty Marmion! . . . 

Young Blount his armor did unlace, 

And, gazing on his ghastly face, 

Said, "By Saint George, he's gone! 

That spear-wound has our master sped, 4 

And see the deep cut on his head! 
Good-night to Marmion." — 

1 Clasped. 2 Dented. 3 Battered by repeated blows. 

« Killed. 



1 82 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

" Unnurtured 1 Blount! thy brawling cease : 
He opes his eyes," said Eustace; "peace!" 



XXIX. 

When, doffed his casque, he felt free air, 
Around 'gan Marmion wildly stare : 
" Where's Harry Blount ? Fitz-Eustace w r here ? 
Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare ! 2 
Redeem my pennon, — charge again! 
. Cry, ' Marmion to the rescue! ' — Vain! 
Last of my race, on battle plain 
That shout shall ne'er be heard again! — 
Yet my last thought is England's — fly, 
To Dacre bear my signet ring : 3 
Tell him his squadrons up to bring. — 
Fitz-Eustace, to Lord Surrey hie ; 
Tunstall lies dead upon the field, 
His lifeblood stains the spotless shield : 
Edmund is down ; my life is reft ; 4 
The Admiral alone is left. 
Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, — 
With Chester charge, and Lancashire, 
Full upon Scotland's central host, 
Or victory and England's lost. — 
Must I bid twice? — hence, varlets! 5 fly! 
Leave Marmion here alone — to die." 
They parted, and alone he lay ; 
Clare drew her from the sight away, 
Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan, 
And half he murmured, " Is there none, 

1 Uneducated; ill-bred. 2 " Hearts of hare," i.e., cowards. 

3 A ring bearing a private seal. It would show Dacre that the message 
came directly from Marmion. 

4 Taken away. 5 See Glossary. 



vi.] M ARM I ON. 183 

Of all my halls have nurst, 
Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring 
Of blessed water from the spring, 

To slake my dying thirst! " 



XXX. 

O woman! in our hours of ease, 
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
And variable as the shade 
By the light quivering aspen made ; 
When pain and anguish wring the brow, 
A ministering angel thou! — 
Scarce were the piteous accents said, 
When, with the baron's casque, the maid 

To the nigh streamlet ran : 
Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears ; 
The plaintive voice alone she hears, 

Sees but the dying man. 
She stooped her by the runnel's 1 side, 

But in abhorrence backward drew ; 
For, oozing from the mountain's side, 
Where raged the war, a dark-red tide 

Was curdling in the streamlet blue. 
Where shall she turn! — behold her mark 

A little fountain cell, 
Where water, clear as diamond-spark, 

In a stone basin fell. 
Above, some half-worn letters say, 
Drink . lump ♦ pilgrim ♦ Drink ♦ anD ♦ crap ♦ 
Jfor ♦ tlje . kinD ♦ jsoul ♦ of , <§>Fbil , <&vty , 

Wi)o ♦ built ♦ tfjis ♦ crojs* ♦ ana ♦ to*U » 
She filled the helm, and back she hied, 
And with surprise and joy espied 

1 See Glossary. 



3 » 



H SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

A monk supporting Marmion's head ; 
A pious man, whom duty brought 
To dubious verge of battle fought, 1 

To shrieve the dying, bless the dead. 



XXXI. 

Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave. 
And, as she stooped his brow to lave, 
"Is it the hand of Clare," he said, 
" Or injured Constance, bathes my head 

Then, as remembrance rose, 
" Speak not to me of shrift 2 or prayer! 

I must redress her woes. 
Short space, few words, are mine to spare ; 
Forgive and listen, gentle Clare!" — 

"Alas!" she said, "the while, — 
Oh, think of your immortal weal! 
In vain for Constance is your zeal ; 

She — died at Holy Isle." 
Lord Marmion started from the ground, 
As light as if he felt no wound, 
Though in the action burst the tide 
In torrents from his wounded side. 
"Then it was truth," he said — "I knew 
That the dark presage 3 must be true. — 
I would the Fiend, to whom belongs 
The vengeance due to all her wrongs, 

Would spare me but a day ! 
For wasting fire, and dying groan, 
And priests slain on the altar stone, 

Might bribe him for delay. 



1 " Dubious verge," i.e., shifting outskirts of the battle. 

2 Confession to a priest by a penitent, especially by one dying. 

3 His feeling of presentiment in Canto III. xiii. 



vi.] M ARM I OX. 185 

It may not be! — this dizzy trance — 
Curse on yon base marauder's lance, 
And doubly cursed my failing brand! 
A sinful heart makes feeble hand." 
Then, fainting, down on earth he sunk, 
Supported by the trembling monk. 

XXXII. 

With fruitless labor Clara bound 

And strove to stanch the gushing wound : 

The monk, with unavailing cares, 

Exhausted all the Church's prayers. 

Ever, he : said, that, close and near, 

A lady's 2 voice was in his ear, 

And that the priest he could not hear ; 

For that she ever sung, 
11 In the lost battle, borne down by the /lying, 
Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying!- " 

So the notes rung ; — 
" Avoid 3 thee, Fiend ! — with cruel hand, 
Shake not the dying sinner's sand! 4 — 
Oh, look, my son, upon yon sign 5 
Of the Redeemer's grace divine ; 

Oh, think on faith and bliss! — 
By many a deathbed I have been, 
And many a sinner's parting seen, 

But never aught like this." 
The war, that for a space did fail, 
Now trebly thundering swelled the gale, 

And " Stanley! " was the cry. 

1 Marmion. 2 Constance's (see Canto III. xi.). 

3 Away with. 

4 " Shake not," etc., i.e., trouble not the sinner in his last moments. 
The metaphor refers to the sand of the hourglass. 

5 Sybil Grey's cross at the fountain. 



1 86 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

A light on Marmion's visage spread, 

And fired his glazing eye : 
With dying hand, above his head, 
He shook the fragment of his blade, 

And shouted "Victory! — 
Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!" 
Were the last words of Marmion. 



XXXIII. 

By this, though deep the evening fell, 
Still rose the battle's deadly swell, 
For still the Scots, around their King, 
Unbroken, fought in desperate ring. 1 
Wliere's now their victor vaward wing, 

Where Huntly, and where Home ? 
Oh for a blast of that dread horn, 2 
On Fontarabian echoes borne, 

That to King Charles did come, 
When Rowland brave, and Olivier, 3 



1 The closing scene of the battle seems to have been as follows. The 
Admiral, during the charge of Huntly and Home on Sir Edmund Howard, 
had stood firm, and, while the Borderers were pillaging, had seized the 
opportunity to push Crawford and Montrose on the Scotch left, opposed 
to him. Breaking these, he bent round and assailed the Scotch center 
on the one side ; while Stanley, who had driven through the Scotch right 
under Lennox and Argyle, attacked on the other. Thus the Scotch were 
hemmed in. 

2 The magic horn of Roland (or Rowland), a celebrated knight of medi- 
aeval romance, and a supposed nephew of King Charlemagne (Charles). 
Roland, in 778, while returning from Spain with Charlemagne's rearguard, 
was attacked by pagan forces at Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees, and cut to 
pieces before Charlemagne could render aid, the latter hearing the blast of 
his horn at Fontarabia, thirty miles away. Roland hesitated to use it until 
the last moment, and then it was too late. He blew three blasts, and at the 
last the horn split. 

3 A renowned peer of Charlemagne. 



vi.] M ARM I ON. 187 

And every paladin 1 and peer, 

On Roncesvalles died! 
Such blasts might warn them, 2 not in vain A 
To quit the plunder of the slain, 
And turn the doubtful day again, 

While yet on Flodden side, 
Afar, the Royal Standard flies, 
And round it toils and bleeds and dies 

Our Caledonian 3 pride! 
In vain the wish — for far away, 
While spoil and havoc mark their way, 
Near Sybil's Cross the plunderers stray. 
"O Lady," cried the monk, "away!" 

And placed her on her steed, 
And led her to the chapel fair, 

Of Tilmouth upon Tweed. 
There all the night they spent in prayer, 
And at the dawn of morning, there 
She met her kinsman, Lord Fitz- Clare. 

XXXIV. 

But as they left the dark'ning heath, 
More desperate grew the strife of death. 
The English shafts 4 in volleys hailed, 
In headlong charge their horse assailed ; 
Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep 
To break the Scottish circle deep, 
That fought around their King. 5 

1 See Glossary. 

2 The Borderers of Huntly and Home, who were pillaging. 

3 Scotch. 

4 Arrows. 

5 The whole English force, with the exception of Dacre's command, are 
at this point attacking the Scotch center, which has formed a circle, and fights 
stubbornly. 



188 SIR WAITER SCOTT. [canto 

But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, 
Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, 
Though billmen ply the ghastly blow, 

Unbroken was the ring ; 
The stubborn spearmen still made good 
Their dark impenetrable wood, 1 
Each stepping where his comrade^ stood, 

The instant that he fell. 
No thought was there of dastard flight ; 
Linked in the serried phalanx tight, 
Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, 

As fearlessly and well ; 
Till utter darkness closed her wing 
O'er their thin host and wounded King. 
Then skillful Surrey's sage commands 
Led back from strife his shattered bands ; 

And from the charge they drew, 
As mountain-waves from wasted lands 

Sweep back to ocean blue. 
Then did their loss his foemen know ; 
Their King, their lords, their mightiest low, 2 
They melted from the field, as snow, 
When streams are swoln and south winds blow, 

Dissolves in silent dew. 
Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, 

While many a broken band, 
Disordered, through her currents dash, 

To gain the Scottish land ; 
To town and tower, to down and dale, 
To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, 
And raise the universal wail. 



1 Referring to die forest-like appearance of the bristling spears. 

2 The English lost about five thousand ; the Scotch, twice that number, 
among the latter many noblemen. 



vi.] MARMIOX. 189 

Tradition, legend, tune, and song 
Shall many an age that wail prolong : 
Still from the sire the son shall hear 
Of the stern strife, and carnage drear, 

Of Flodden's fatal field, 
Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, 

And broken was her shield ! 

XXXV. 

Day dawns upon the mountain's side. — 
There, Scotland! lay thy bravest pride, 
Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one : 
The sad survivors all are gone. — 
View not that corpse l mistrustfully, 2 
Defaced and mangled though it be ; 
Nor to yon Border castle 3 high 
Look northward with upbraiding eye ; 

Nor cherish hope in vain, 
That, journeying far on foreign strand, 
The Royal Pilgrim 4 to his land 

May yet return again. 
He saw the wreck his rashness wrought ; 
Reckless of life, he desperate fought, 

And fell on Flodden plain : 
And well in death his trusty brand, 
Firm clinched within his manly hand, 

Beseemed the monarch slain. 

1 The corpse of the King. 

2 As if doubting its identity. Referring to the rumor that James was 
not slain at Flodden. 

3 Home Castle. This refers to an idle rumor which charged Home with 
the murder of the King in his castle. 

4 King James. A current report was that he made a pilgrimage to Jeru- 
salem in expiation of the death of his father, and his breach of faith with 
Henry VIII. 



9° S/A y WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

But, oh, how changed since yon blithe night! — 
Gladly I turn me from the sight 
Unto my tale again. 



XXXVI. 

Short is my tale : Fitz-Eustace' care 

A pierced and mangled body bare 

To moated Lichfield's 1 lofty pile ; 

And there, beneath the southern aisle, 

A tomb, with Gothic sculpture fair, 

Did long Lord Marmion's image bear. 

(Now vainly for its site you look ; 

'Twas leveled when fanatic Brook 2 

The fair cathedral stormed and took ; 

But, thanks to Heaven, and good Saint Chad! 3 

A guerdon meet 4 the spoiler had ! ) 

There erst was martial Marmion 5 found, 

His feet upon a couchant 6 hound, 

His hands to heaven upraised ; 
And all around, on scutcheon rich, 
And tablet carved, and fretted niche, 

His arms and feats were blazed. 7 
And yet, though all was carved so fair, 
And priest for Marmion breathed the prayer, 
The last Lord Marmion lay not there. 
From Ettrick woods, 8 a peasant swain 

1 Lichfield Cathedral. A moat was put around it during the Parliamen- 
tary war, when it was garrisoned for Charles I. 

2 Lord Brook, one of the Puritan leaders in this attack on the Cathedral. 

3 Ceadda, a hermit and bishop of the seventh century, who, after resign- 
ing the York bishopric in 669, became Bishop of Lichfield. 

4 " Guerdon meet," i.e., fit reward. Brook was killed on Saint Chad's 
Day by a shot fired from Saint Chad's Cathedral. 

5 Marmion's sculptured image. 6 See Glossary. 7 Blazoned. 
8 Ettrick Forest, in southeastern Scotland. 



vi.] MA KM I ON. 191 

Followed his lord to Flodden plain, — 
One of those flowers whom plaintive lay 1 
In Scotland mourns as " wede away :" '- 
Sore wounded, Sybil's Cross he spied, 
And dragged him to its foot, and died, 
Close by the noble Marmion's side. 
The spoilers stripped and gashed the slain, 
And thus their corpses were mista'en ; 
And thus, in the proud baron's tomb, 
The lowly woodsman took the room. 

XXXVII. 

Less easy task it were to show 

Lord Marmion's nameless grave, and low. 

They dug his grave e'en where he lay, 
But every mark is gone : 

Time's wasting hand has done away 

The simple Cross of Sybil Grey, 
And broke her font of stone ;' d 
But yet out from the little hill 
Oozes the slender springlet still. 

Oft halts the stranger there, 
For thence may best his curious eye 
The memorable field descry ; 

And shepherd boys repair 
To seek the water flag and rush, 
And rest them by the hazel bush, 

And plait their garlands fair, 
Nor dream they sit upon the grave 
That holds the bones of Marmion brave. 
When thou shalt find the little hill, 

1 An old Scotch ballad of Flodden. 

2 Laid waste ; literally, weeded away. 

3 The stone basin referred to in Stanza xxx. 



19 2 SIX WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

With thy heart commune, and be still. 
If ever, in temptation strong, 
Thou left' st the right path for the wrong ; 
If every devious step thus trod 
Still led thee farther from the road ; 
Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom 
On noble Marmion's lowly tomb ; 
But say, " He died a gallant knight, 
With sword in hand, for England's right." 

XXXVIII. 

I do not rhyme to that dull elf 

Who cannot image to himself 

That all through Flodden's dismal night 

Wilton was foremost in the fight ; 

That, when brave Surrey's steed was slain, 

'Twas Wilton mounted him again ; 

'Twas Wilton's brand that deepest hewed 

Amid the spearmen's stubborn wood : 

Unnamed by Hollinshed 1 or Hall, 1 

He was the living soul of all ; 

That, after fight, his faith 2 made plain, 

He won his rank and lands again, 

And charged his old paternal shield 

With bearings won on Flodden Field. 

Nor sing I to that simple maid 

To whom it must in terms be said 

That King and kinsmen did agree 

To bless fair Clara's constancy ; 

Who cannot, unless I relate, 

Paint to her mind the bridal's state, ■ — 

That Wolsey's 3 voice the blessing spoke, 

1 A chronicler of the sixteenth century. 

2 Innocence. 3 Cardinal Wolsey. 



vi.] MARMION. 193 

More, 1 Sands, and Denny, passed the joke : 

That bluff King Hal the curtain 2 drew, 

And Catherine's 3 hand the stocking threw; 4 

And afterwards, for many a day, 

That it was held enough to say, 

In blessing to a wedded pair, 

" Love they 5 like Wilton and like Clare! " 



L'ENVOY. 6 

TO THE READER. 



WHY then a final note prolong, 
Or lengthen out a closing song, 
Unless to bid the gentles speed, 
Who long have listed to my rede ? 7 
To statesmen grave, if such may deign 
To read the minstrel's idle strain, 
Sound head, clean hand, and piercing wit, 
And patriotic heart — as Pitt! 
A garland for the hero's crest, 
And twined by her he loves the best! 
To every lovely lady bright, 
W T hat can I wish but faithful knight ? 
To every faithful lover too, 
What can I wish but lady true ? 

1 Sir Thomas More (lord chancellor after Wolsey), Lord Sands, and 
Anthony Denny. Compare Shakespeare's Henry VIII. 

2 The curtain of the bridal apartment. 

3 Catherine of Aragon, first wife of Henry VIII., divorced in 1533. 

4 An old English marriage custom was to throw a stocking after the bride 
or groom. 

5 " Love they," i.e., may they love. 
c See Glossary. 7 Story. 

13 



194 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto vi.] 

And knowledge to the studious sage, 

And pillow to the head of age. 

To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay 

Has cheated of thy hour of play, 

Light task and merry holiday! 

To all, to each, a fair good-night, 

And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light! 






INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST. 

TO WILLIAM STEWART ROSE, Esq. 

Ashes tie I, Ettrick Forest. 

NOVEMBER'S sky is chill and drear, 
November's leaf is red and sear : 
Late, gazing down the steepy linn 
That hems our little garden in, 
Low in its dark and narrow glen, 
You scarce the rivulet might ken, 
So thick the tangled greenwood grew, 
So feeble trilled the streamlet through : 
Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen 
Through bush and brier, no longer green, 
An angry brook, it sweeps the glade, 
Brawls over rock and wild cascade, 
And, foaming brown with double speed, 
Hurries its waters to the Tweed. 

No longer autumn's glowing red 
Upon our Forest hills is shed ; 
No more, beneath the evening beam, 
Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam. 
Away hath passed the heather-bell 
That bloomed so rich on Needpath-fell ; 
Sallow his brow, and russet bare 
Are now the sister-heights of Yair. 
The sheep, before the pinching heaven, 
To sheltered dale and down are driven, 
i95 



19 6 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 

Where yet some faded herbage pines. 
And yet a watery sunbeam shines : 
In meek despondency they eye 
The withered sward and wintry sky, 
And far beneath their summer hill 
Stray sadly by Glenkinnon's rill. 
The shepherd shifts his mantle's fold, 
And wraps him closer from the cold ; 
His dogs no merry circles wheel, 
But, shivering, follow at his heel ; 
A cowering glance they often cast, 
As deeper moans the gathering blast. 

My imps, though hardy, bold, and wild, 
As best bents the mountain child, 
Feel the sad influence of the hour, 
And wail the daisy's vanished flower ; 
Their summer gambols tell, and mourn, 
And anxious ask, Will spring return, 
And birds and lambs again be gay, 
And blossoms clothe the hawthorn spray? 

Yes, prattlers, yes. The daisy's flower 
Again shall paint your summer bower ; 
Again the hawthorn shall supply 
The garlands you delight to tie ; 
The lambs upon the lea shall bound, 
The wild birds carol to the round, 
And while you frolic light as they, 
Too short shall seem the summer day. 

To mute and to material things 
New life revolving summer brings ; 
The genial call dead Nature hears, 
And in her glory reappears. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 197 

But oh! my country's wintry state 

What second spring shall renovate ? 

What powerful call shall bid arise 

The buried warlike and the wise ; 

The mind that thought for Britain's weal, 

The hand that grasped the victor steel ? 

The vernal sun new life bestows 

Even on the meanest flower that blows ; 

But vainly, vainly may he shine 

Where Glory weeps o'er Nelson's shrine, 

And vainly pierce the solemn gloom 

That shrouds, O Pitt, thy hallowed tomb ! 

Deep graved in every British heart, 
Oh, never let those names depart! 
Say to your sons, Lo, here his grave 
Who victor died on Gadite wave! 
To him, as to the burning levin, 
Short, bright, resistless course was given. 
Where'er his country's foes were found, 
Was heard the fated thunder's sound, 
Till burst the bolt on yonder shore, 
Rolled, blazed, destroyed, — and was no more. 

Nor mourn ye less his perished worth 
Who bade the conqueror go forth, 
And launched that thunderbolt of war 
On Egypt, Hafnia, Trafalgar; 
Who, born to guide such high emprise, 
For Britain's weal was early wise ; 
Alas! to whom the Almighty gave, 
For Britain's sins, an early grave! 
His worth, who, in his mightiest hour, 
A bauble held the pride of power, 
Spurned at the sordid lust of pelf, 






198 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

And served his Albion for herself ; 
Who, when the frantic crowd amain 
Strained at subjection's bursting rein, 
O'er their wild mood full conquest gained, 
The pride, he would not crush, restrained, 
Showed their fierce zeal a worthier cause, 
And brought the freeman's arm to aid the freeman's 
laws. 

Hadst thou but lived, though stripped of power, 
A watchman on the lonely tower, 
Thy thrilling trump had roused the land, 
When fraud or danger were at hand ; 
By thee, as by the beacon light, 
Our pilots had kept course aright ; 
As some proud column, though alone, 
Thy strength had propped the tottering throne. 
Now is the stately column broke, 
The beacon light is quenched in smoke, 
The trumpet's silver sound is still, 
The warder silent on the hill! 

Oh, think, how to his latest day, 
When Death, just hovering, claimed his prey, 
With Palinure's unaltered mood, 
Firm at his dangerous post he stood ; 
Each call for needful rest repelled, 
With dying hand the rudder held, 
Till, in his fall, with fateful sway, 
The steerage of the realm gave way! 
Then, while on Britain's thousand plains 
One unpolluted church remains, 
Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent around 
The bloody tocsin's maddening sound. 
But still, upon the hallowed day, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST. 199 

Convoke the swains to praise and pray ; 
While faith and civil peace are dear, 
Grace this cold marble with a tear, — 
He who preserved them, Pitt, lies here. 

Nor yet suppress the generous sigh 
Because his rival slumbers nigh ; 
Nor be thy requiescat dumb 
Lest it be said o'er Fox's tomb ; 
For talents mourn, untimely lost, 
When best employed, and wanted most ; 
Mourn genius high, and lore profound, 
And wit that loved to play, not wound ; 
And all the reasoning powers divine, 
To penetrate, resolve, combine ; 
And feelings keen, and fancy's glow, 
They sleep with him who sleeps below : 
And, if thou mourn'st they could not save 
From error him who owns this grave, 
Be every harsher thought suppressed, 
And sacred be the last long rest. 
Here, where the end of earthly things 
Lays heroes, patriots, bards, and kings ; 
Where stiff the hand, and still the tongue, 
Of those who fought and spoke and sung ; 
Here, where the fretted aisles prolong 
The distant notes of holy song, 
As if some angel spoke again, 
"All peace on earth, good will to men ;" 
If ever from an English heart, 
Oh, here let prejudice depart, 
And, partial feeling cast aside, 
Record that Fox a Briton died! 
When Europe crouched to France's yoke, 
And Austria bent, and Prussia broke, 



200 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

And the firm Russian's purpose brave 
Was bartered by a timorous slave, 
Even then dishonor's peace he spurned, 
The sullied olive branch returned, 
Stood for his country's glory fast, 
n And nailed her colors to the mast! 
Heaven, to reward his firmness, gave 
A portion in this honored grave, 
And ne'er held marble in its trust 
Of two such wondrous men the dust. 

With more than mortal powers endowed, 
How high they soared above the crowd ! 
Theirs was no common party race, 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place ; 
Like fabled Gods, their mighty war 
Shook realms and nations in its jar ; 
Beneath each banner proud to stand, 
Looked up the noblest of the land, 
Till through the British world were known 
The names of Pitt and Fox alone. 
Spells of such force no wizard grave 
E'er framed in dark Thessalian cave, 
Though his could drain the ocean dry, 
And force the planets from the sky. 
These spells are spent, and, spent with these, 
The wine of life is on the lees. 
Genius and taste, and talent gone, 
Forever tombed beneath the stone, 
Where — taming thought to human pride! — 
The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. 
Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 
'Twill trickle to his rival's bier ; 
O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound, 
And Fox's shall the notes rebound. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST. 201 

The solemn echo seems to cry, 
"Here let their discord with them die. 
Speak not for those a separate doom, 
Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb ; 
But search the land of living men, 
Where wilt thou find their like again ?" 

Rest, ardent spirits, till the cries 
Of dying Nature bid you rise! 
Not even your Britain's groans can pierce 
The leaden silence of your hearse ; 
Then, oh, how impotent and vain 
This grateful tributary strain! 
Though not unmarked from northern clime, 
Ye heard the Border Minstrel's rhyme : 
His Gothic harp has o'er you rung ; 
The Bard you deigned to praise, your deathless names 
has sung. 

Stay yet, illusion, stay awhile, 
My wildered fancy still beguile! 
From this high theme how can I part, 
Ere half unloaded is my heart! 
For all the tears e'er sorrow drew, 
And all the raptures fancy knew, 
And all the keener rush of blood 
That throbs through bard in bard-like mood, 
Were here a tribute mean and low, 
Though all their mingled streams could flow — 
Woe, wonder, and sensation high, 
In one springtide of ecstasy! — 
It will not be — it may not last — 
The vision of enchantment's past : 
Like frostwork in the morning ray, 
The fancied fabric melts away ; 






SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

Each Gothic arch, memorial stone, 
And long, dim, lofty aisle, are gone ; 
And, lingering last, deception dear, 
The choir's high sounds die on my ear. 
Now slow return the lonely down, 
The silent pastures bleak and brown, 
The farm begirt with copsewood wild, 
The gambols of each frolic child, 
Mixing their shrill cries with the tone 
Of Tweed's dark waters rushing on. 

Prompt on unequal tasks to run, 
Thus Nature disciplines her son : 
Meeter, she says, for me to stray, 
And waste the solitary day 
In plucking from yon fen the reed, 
And watch it floating down the Tweed ; 
Or idly list the shrilling lay 
With which the milkmaid cheers her way, 
Marking its cadence rise and fail, 
As from the field, beneath her pail, 
She trips it down the uneven dale ; 
Meeter for me, by yonder caim, 
The ancient shepherd's tale to learn ; 
Though oft he stop in rustic fear, 
Lest his old legends tire the ear 
Of one, who, in his simple mind, 
May boast of book-learned taste refined. 

But thou, my friend, canst fitly tell 
(For few have read romance so well) 
How still the legendary lay 
O'er poet's bosom holds its sway ; 
How on the ancient minstrel strain 
Time lays his palsied hand in vain ; 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 203 

And how our hearts at doughty deeds, 
By warriors wrought in steely weeds, 
Still throb for fear and pity's sake ; 
As when the Champion of the Lake 
Enters Morgana' s fated house, 
Or in the Chapel Perilous, 
Despising spells and demons' force, 
Holds converse with the unburied corse ; 
Or when, Dame Ganore's grace to move, 
(Alas, that lawless was their love! ) 
He sought proud Tarquin in his den, 
And freed full sixty knights ; or when, 
A sinful man, and unconfessed, 
He took the Sangreal's holy quest, 
And, slumbering, saw the vision high, 
He might not view with waking eye. 

The mightiest chiefs of British song 
Scorned not such legends to prolong: 
They gleam through Spenser's elfin dream, 
And mix in Milton's heavenly theme ; 
And Dryden, in immortal strain, 
Had raised the Table Round again, 
But that a ribald king and court 
Bade him toil on, to make them sport ; 
Demanded for their niggard pay, 
Fit for their souls, a looser lay, 
Licentious satire, song, and play ; 
The world defrauded of the high design, 
Profaned the God-given strength, and marred the 
lofty line. 

Warmed by such names, well may we then, 
Though dwindled sons of little men, 
Essay to break a feeble lance 



204 SIX WALTER SCOTT. 

In the fair fields of old romance ; 

Or seek the moated castle's cell, 

Where long through talisman and spell, 

While tyrants ruled, and damsels wept, 

Thy Genius, Chivalry, hath slept : 

There sound the harpings of the North, 

Till he awake and sally forth, 

On venturous quest to prick again, 

In all his arms, with all his train, 

Shield, lance, and brand, and plume, and scarf, 

Fay, giant, dragon, squire, and dwarf, 

And wizard with his wand of might, 

And errant maid on palfrey white. 

Around the Genius weave their spells, 

Pure Love, who scarce his passion tells ; 

Mystery, half veiled and half revealed ; 

And Honor, with his spotless shield ; 

Attention, with fixed eye ; and Fear, 

That loves the tale she shrinks to hear ; 

And gentle Courtesy ; and Faith, 

Unchanged by sufferings, time, or death ; 

And Valor, lion-mettled lord, 

Leaning upon his own good sword. 

Well has thy fair achievement shown 
A worthy meed may thus be won ; 
Ytene's oaks — beneath whose shade 
Their theme the merry minstrels made, 
Of Ascapart, and Bevis bold, 
And that Red King, who, while of old 
Through Boldrewood the chase he led, 
By his loved huntsman's arrow bled- — 
Ytene's oaks have heard again 
Renewed such legendary strain ; 
For thou hast sung how he of Gaul, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 205 

That Amadis so famed in hall, 

For Oriana, foiled in fight 

The Necromancer's felon might ; 

And well in modern verse hast wove 

Partenopex's mystic love : 

Hear, then, attentive to my lay, 

A knightly tale of Albion's elder day. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 

TO THE REV. JOHN MARRIOTT, A.M. 

Ashes tic I, Ettrick Forest. 

r I A HE scenes are desert now, and bare, 
X Where flourished once a forest fair, 
When these waste glens with copse were lined, 
And peopled with the hart and hind. 
Yon Thorn — perchance whose prickly spears 
Have fenced him for three hundred years, 
While fell around his green compeers — 
Yon lonely Thorn, would he could tell 
The changes of his parent dell. 
Since he, so gray and stubborn now, 
Waved in each breeze a sapling bough ; 
Would he could tell how deep the shade 
A thousand mingled branches made ; 
How broad the shadows of the oak, 
How clung the rowan to the rock, 
And through the foliage showed his head, 
With narrow leaves and berries red ; 
What pines on every mountain sprung, 
O'er every dell what birches hung, 
In every breeze what aspens shook, 
What alders shaded every brook! 



206 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

" Here, in my shade," methinks he'd say, 
" The mighty stag at noontide lay : 
The wolf I've seen, a fiercer game, 
(The neighboring dingle bears his name,) 
With lurching step around me prowl, 
And stop, against the moon to howl ; 
The mountain boar, on battle set, 
His tusks upon my stem would whet ; 
While doe, and roe, and red deer good, 
Have bounded by through gay greenwood. 
Then oft, from Newark's riven tower, 
Sallied a Scottish monarch's power : 
A thousand vassals mustered round, 
With horse, and hawk, and horn, and hound 
And I might see the youth intent 
Guard every pass with crossbow bent ; 
And through the brake the rangers stalk, 
And falc'ners hold the ready hawk ; 
And foresters, in greenwood trim, 
Lead in the leash the gazehounds grim, 
Attentive, as the bratchet's bay 
From the dark covert drove the prey, 
To slip them as he broke away. 
The startled quarry bounds amain, 
As fast the gallant greyhounds strain ; 
Whistles the arrow from the bow, 
Answers the harquebuss below ; 
While all the rocking hills reply 
To hoof clang, hound, and hunters' cry, 
And bugles ringing lightsomely." 

Of such proud huntings many tales 
Yet linger in our lonely dales, 
Up pathless Ettrick and on Yarrow, 
Where erst the outlaw- drew his arrow. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 207 

But not more blithe that silvan court 

Than we have been at humbler sport ; 

Though small our pomp, and mean our game, 

Our mirth, dear Marriott, was the same. 

Remember'st thou my greyhounds true ? 

O'er holt or hill there never flew, 

From slip or leash there never sprang, 

More fleet of foot, or sure of fang. 

Nor dull, between each merry chase, 

Passed by the intermitted space ; 

For we had fair resource in store, 

In Classic and in Gothic lore : 

We marked each memorable scene, 

And held poetic talk between ; 

Nor hill, nor brook, we paced along, 

But had its legend or its song. 

All silent now — for now are still 

Thy bowers, untenanted Bowhill! 

No longer from thy mountains dun 

The yeoman hears the well-known gun, 

And, while his honest heart glows warm 

At thought of his paternal farm, 

Round to his mates a brimmer fills, 

And drinks, "The Chieftain of the Hills!" 

No fairy forms, in Yarrow's bowers, 

Trip o'er the walks, or tend the flowers, 

Fair as the elves whom Janet saw 

By moonlight dance on Carterhaugh ; 

No youthful Baron's left to grace 

The Forest-Sheriff's lonely chase, 

And ape, in manly step and tone, 

The majesty of Oberon : 

And she is gone, whose lovely face 

Is but her least and lowest grace ; 

Though if to Sylphid Queen 'twere given 



208 SIR WAITER SCOTT. 

To show our earth the charms of heaven, 
She could not glide along the air 
With form more light, or face more fair. 
No more the widow's deafened ear 
Grows quick that lady's step to hear: 
At noontide she expects her not, 
Nor busies her to trim the cot ; 
Pensive she turns her humming wheel, 
Or pensive cooks her orphans' meal, 
Yet blesses,, ere she deals their bread, 
The gentle hand by which they're fed. 

From Yair — which hills so closely bind, 
Scarce can the Tweed his passage find, 
Though much he fret, and chafe, and toil, 
Till all his eddying currents boil — 
Her long-descended lord is gone, 
And left us by the stream alone. 
And much I miss those sportive boys, 
Companions of my mountain joys, 
Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, 
When thought is speech, and speech is truth. 
Close to my side, with what delight 
They pressed to hear of Wallace wight, 
When, pointing to his airy mound, 
I called his ramparts holy ground! 
Kindled their brows to hear me speak ; 
And I have smiled, to feel my cheek, 
Despite the difference of our years, 
Return again the glow of theirs. 
Ah, happy boys! such feelings pure, 
They will not, can not, long endure ; 
Condemned to stem the world's rude tide, 
You may not linger by the side ; 
For Fate shall thrust you from the shore, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. . 209 

And Passion ply the sail and oar. 
Yet cherish the remembrance still 
Of the lone mountain and the rill ; 
For trust, dear boys, the time will come 
When fiercer transport shall be dumb, 
And you will think right frequently, 
But, well I hope, without a sigh, 
On the free hours that we have spent 
Together on the brown hill's bent. 

When, musing on companions gone, 
We doubly feel ourselves alone, 
Something, my friend, we yet may gain, 
There is a pleasure in this pain : 
It soothes the love of lonely rest, 
Deep in each gentler heart impressed. 
Tis silent amid worldly toils, 
And stifled soon by mental broils ; 
But, in a bosom thus prepared, 
Its still small voice is often heard, 
Whispering a mingled sentiment 
'Twixt resignation and content. 
Oft in my mind such thoughts awake 
By lone Saint Mary's silent lake ; 
Thou know'st it well — nor fen nor sedge 
Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge; 
Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink 
At once upon the level brink, 
And just a trace of silver sand 
Marks where the water meets the land. 
Far in the mirror, bright and blue, 
Each hill's huge outline you may view ; 
Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare, 
Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake is there, 
Save where, of land, yon slender line 



210 s/J? WALTER SCOTT. 

Bears thwart the lake the scattered pine, 

Yet even this nakedness has power, 

And aids the feeling of the hour : 

Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy, 

Where living thing concealed might lie ; 

Nor point, retiring, hides a dell 

Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell ; 

There's nothing left to fancy's guess, 

You see that all is loneliness : 

And silence aids — though the steep hills 

Send to the lake a thousand rills ; 

In summer tide, so soft they weep, 

The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; 

Your horse's hoof tread sounds too rude, 

So stilly is the solitude. 

Naught living meets the eye or ear, 
But well I ween the dead are near ; 
For though, in feudal strife, a foe 
Hath laid Our Lady's chapel low, 
Yet still, beneath the hallowed soil, 
The peasant rests him from his toil, 
And, dying, bids his bones be laid 
W T here erst his simple fathers prayed. 

If age had tamed the passions' strife, 
And fate had cut my ties to life, 
Here, have I thought, 'twere sweet to dwell, 
And rear again the chaplain's cell, 
Like that same peaceful hermitage, 
Where Milton longed to spend his age. 
'Twere sweet to mark the setting day 
On Bourhope's lonely top decay ; 
And, as it faint and feeble died 
On the broad lake, and mountain's side, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 

To say, " Thus pleasures fade away ; 

Youth, talents, beauty, thus decay, 

And leave us dark, forlorn, and gray;" 

Then gaze on Dryhope's ruined tower, 

And think on Yarrow's faded Flower : 

And when that mountain sound I heard, 

Which bids us be for storm prepared, 

The distant rustling of his wings, 

As up his force the Tempest brings, 

'Twere sweet, ere yet his terrors rave, 

To sit upon the Wizard's grave, — 

That Wizard Priest's, whose bones are thrust 

From company of holy dust ; 

On which no sunbeam ever shines — 

(So superstition's creed divines) — 

Thence view the lake, with sullen roar, 

Heave her broad billows to the shore ; 

And mark the wild swans mount the gale, 

Spread wide through mist their snowy sail, 

And ever stoop again, to lave 

Their bosoms on the surging wave ; 

Then, when against the driving hail 

No longer might my plaid avail, 

Back to my lonely home retire, 

And light my lamp, and trim my fire ; 

There ponder o'er some mystic lay, 

Till the wild tale had all its sway, 

And, in the bittern's distant shriek, 

I heard unearthly voices speak, 

And thought the Wizard Priest was come 

To claim again his ancient home! 

And bade my busy fancy range, 

To frame him fitting shape, and strange, 

Till from the task my brow I cleared, 

And smiled to think that I had feared. 



SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

But chief, 'twere sweet to think such life 
(Though but escape from fortune's strife) 
Something most matchless good and wise, 
A great and grateful sacrifice, 
And deem each hour to musing given 
A step upon the road to heaven. 

Yet him whose heart is ill at ease 
Such peaceful solitudes displease ; 
He loves to drown his bosom's jar 
Amid the elemental war : 
And my black Palmer's choice had been 
Some ruder and more savage scene, 
Like that which frowns round dark Loch-skene, 
There eagles scream from isle to shore ; 
Down all the rocks the torrents roar ; 
O'er the black waves incessant driven, 
Dark mists infect the summer heaven ; 
Through the rude barriers of the lake, 
Away its hurrying waters break, 
Faster and whiter dash and curl, 
Till down yon dark abyss they hurl. 
Rises the fog-smoke white as snow, 
Thunders the viewless stream below, 
Diving, as if condemned to lave 
Some demon's subterranean cave, 
Who, prisoned by enchanter's spell, 
Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell. 
And well that Palmer's form and mien 
Had suited with the stormy scene, 
Just on the edge, straining his ken 
To view the bottom of the den, 
Where, deep deep down, and far within, 
Toils with the rocks the roaring linn ; 
Then, issuing forth one foamy wave, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD. 213 

And wheeling round the Giant's Grave, 
White as the snowy charger's tail, 
Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. 

Marriott, thy harp, on Isis strung, 
To many a Border theme has rung : 
Then list to me, and thou shalt know 
Of this mysterious Man of Woe. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD. 

TO WILLIAM ERSKINE, Esq. 

Ashes tie I, Ettrick Forest. 

LIKE April morning clouds, that pass 
With varying shadow o'er the grass, 
And imitate on field and furrow 
Life's checkered scene of joy and sorrow ; 
Like streamlet of the mountain north, 
Now in a torrent racing forth, 
Now winding slow its silver train, 
And almost slumbering on the plain ; 
Like breezes of the autumn day, 
Whose voice inconstant dies away, 
And ever swells again as fast, 
When the ear deems its murmur past ; 
Thus various, my romantic theme 
Flits, winds, or sinks, a morning dream. 
Yet pleased, our eye pursues the trace 
Of Light and Shade's inconstant race ; 
Pleased, views the rivulet afar, 
Weaving its maze irregular ; 
And pleased, we listen as the breeze 



214 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

Heaves its wild sigh through autumn trees ; 
Then, wild as cloud, or stream, or gale, 
Flow on, flow unconfined, my Tale! 

Need I to thee, dear Erskine, tell 
I love the license all too well, 
In sounds now lowly, and now strong, 
To raise the desultory song ? 
Oft, when 'mid such capricious chime, 
Some transient fit of lofty rhyme 
To thy kind judgment seemed excuse 
For many an error of the muse, 
Oft hast thou said, " If, still misspent, 
Thine hours to poetry are lent, 
Go, and to tame thy wandering course, 
Quaff from the fountain at the source ; 
Approach those masters o'er whose tomb 
Immortal laurels ever bloom : 
Instructive of the feebler bard, 
Still from the grave their voice is heard ; 
From them, and from the paths they showed, 
Choose honored guide and practiced road ; 
Nor ramble on through brake and maze, 
With harpers rude of barbarous days. 

" Or deem'st thou not our later time 
Yields topic meet for classic rhyme ? 
Hast thou no elegiac verse 
For Brunswick's venerable hearse ? 
What! not a line, a tear, a sigh, 
When valor bleeds for liberty ? — 
Oh, hero of that glorious time, 
When, with unrivaled light sublime, — 
Though martial Austria, and though all 
The might of Russia, and the Gaul, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD, 215 

Though banded Europe stood her foes, — 

The star of Brandenburg arose! 

Thou couldst not live to see her beam 

Forever quenched in Jena's stream. 

Lamented chief! — it was not given 

To thee to change the doom of Heaven, 

And crush that dragon in its birth, 

Predestined scourge of guilty earth. 

Lamented chief! — not thine the power 

To save in that presumptuous hour 

When Prussia hurried to the field, 

And snatched the spear, but left the shield! 

Valor and skill 'twas thine to try, 

And, tried in vain, 'twas thine to die. 

Ill had it seemed thy silver hair 

The last, the bitterest pang to share, 

For princedoms reft, and scutcheons riven, 

And birthrights to usurpers given ; 

Thy land's, thy children's wrongs to feel, 

And witness woes thou couldst not heal! 

On thee relenting Heaven bestows 

For honored life an honored close ; 

And when revolves, in time's sure change, 

The hour of Germany's revenge, 

When, breathing fury for her sake, 

Some new Arminius shall awake, 

Her champion, ere he strike, shall come 

To whet his sword on Brunswick's tomb. 

" Or of the Red-Cross hero teach, 
Dauntless in dungeon as on breach : 
Alike to him the sea, the shore, 
The brand, the bridle, or the oar : 
Alike to him the war that calls 
Its votaries to the shattered walls 



2i6 SIX WALTER SCOTT. 

Which the grim Turk, besmeared with blood, 

Against the Invincible made good ; 

Or that whose thundering voice could wake 

The silence of the polar lake, 

When stubborn Russ and metaled Swede 

On the warped wave their death-game played 

Or that where Vengeance and Affright 

Howled round the father of the fight, 

Who snatched on Alexandria's sand 

The conqueror's wreath with dying hand. 

" Or, if to touch such chord be thine, 
Restore the ancient tragic line, 
And emulate the notes that rung 
From the wild harp, which silent hung 
By silver Avon's holy shore, 
Till twice an hundred years rolled o'er ; 
When she, the bold enchantress, came, 
With fearless hand and heart on flame! 
From the pale willow snatched the treasure, 
And swept it with a kindred measure, 
Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove 
With Montfort's hate and Basil's love, 
Awakening at the inspired strain, 
Deemed their own Shakespeare lived again." 

Thy friendship thus thy judgment wronging 
With praises not to me belonging, 
In task more meet for mightiest powers, 
Wouldst thou engage my thriftless hours. 
But say, my Erskine, hast thou weighed 
That secret power by all obeyed, 
Which warps not less the passive mind, 
Its source concealed or undefined ; 
Whether an impulse, that has birth 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD. 217 

Soon as the infant wakes on earth, 
One with our feelings and our powers, 
And rather part of us than ours ; 
Or whether fitlier termed the sway 
Of habit, formed in early day? 
Howe'er derived, its force confessed 
Rules with despotic sway the breast, 
And drags us on by viewless chain, 
While taste and reason plead in vain. 
Look east, and ask the Belgian why, 
Beneath Batavia's sultry sky, 
He seeks not eager to inhale 
The freshness of the mountain gale, 
Content to rear his whitened wall 
Beside the dank and dull canal ? 
He'll say, from youth he loved to see 
The white sail gliding by the tree. 
Or see yon weather-beaten hind, 
Whose sluggish herds before him wind, 
Whose tattered plaid and rugged cheek 
His northern clime and kindred speak ; 
Through England's laughing meads he goes, 
And England's wealth around him flows ; 
Ask if it would content him well, 
At ease in those gay plains to dwell, 
Where hedgerows spread a verdant screen, 
And spires and forests intervene, 
And the neat cottage peeps between? 
No ! not for these will he exchange 
His dark Lochaber's boundless range ; 
Not for fair Devon's meads forsake 
Bennevis gray, and Garry's lake. 

Thus while I ape the measure wild 
Of tales that charmed me yet a child, 



- 



218 . SIX WALTER SCOTT. 

Rude though they be, still with the chime 

Return the thoughts of early time ; 

And feelings, roused in life's first day, 

Glow in the line, and prompt the lay. 

Then rise those crags, that mountain tower 

Which charmed my fancy's wakening hour. 

Though no broad river swept along, 

To claim, perchance, heroic song; 

Though sighed no groves in summer gale, 

To prompt of love a softer tale ; 

Though scarce a puny streamlet's speed 

Claimed homage from a shepherd's reed ; 

Yet was poetic impulse given 

By the green hill and clear blue heaven. 

It was a barren scene, and wild, 

Where naked cliffs were rudely piled ; 

But ever and anon between 

Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green ; 

And well the lonely infant knew 

Recesses where the wall-flower grew, 

And honeysuckle loved to crawl 

Up the low crag and ruined wall. 

I deemed such nooks the sweetest shade 

The sun in all its round surveyed ; 

And still I thought that shattered tower 

The mightiest work of human power, 

And marveled as the aged hind 

With some strange tale bewitched my mind 

Of forayers, who, with headlong force, 

Down from that strength had spurred their horse, 

Their southern rapine to renew, 

Far in the distant Cheviots blue, 

And, home returning, filled the hall 

With revel, wassail rout, and brawl. 

Methought that still with trump and clang 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD. 219 

The gateway's broken arches rang ; 

Methought grim features, seamed with scars, 

Glared through the window's rusty bars, 

And ever, by the winter hearth, 

Old tales I heard of woe or mirth, 

Of lovers' slights, of ladies' charms, 

Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms ; 

Of patriot battles, won of old 

By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; 

Of later fields of feud and fight, 

When, pouring from their Highland height, 

The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, 

Had swept the scarlet ranks away. 

While stretched at length upon the floor, 

Again I fought each combat o'er, 

Pebbles and shells, in order laid, 

The mimic ranks of war displayed ; 

And onward still the Scottish Lion bore, 

And still the scattered Southron fled before. 

Still, with vain fondness, could I trace 
Anew each kind familiar face 
That brightened at our evening fire. 
From the thatched mansion's gray-haired sire, 
Wise without learning, plain and good, 
And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood ; 
Whose eye, in age, quick, clear, and keen, 
Showed what in youth its glance had been ; 
Whose doom discording neighbors sought, 
Content with equity unbought ; 
To him the venerable Priest, 
Our frequent and familiar guest, 
Whose life and manners well could paint 
Alike the student and the saint ; 
Alas! whose speech too oft I broke 



SI A' WALTER SCOTT. 

With gambol rude, and timeless joke : 
For I was wayward, bold, and wild, 
A self-willed imp, a grandame's child ; 
But half a plague, and half a jest, 
Was still endured, beloved, caressed. 

For me, thus nurtured, dost thou ask 
The classic poet's well-conned task ? 
Nay, Erskine, nay — On the wild hill 
Let the wild heath-bell flourish still ; 
Cherish the tulip, prune the vine, 
But freely let the woodbine twine, 
And leave untrimmed the eglantine : 
Nay, my friend, nay — Since oft thy praise 
Hath given fresh vigor to my lays ; 
Since oft thy judgment could refine 
My flattened thought or cumbrous line ; 
Still kind, as is thy wont, attend, 
And in the minstrel spare the friend. 
Though wild as cloud,- as stream, as gale, 
Flow forth, flow unrestrained, my Tale! 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 

TO JAMES SKENE, Esq. 

Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest. 

AN ancient Minstrel sagely said, 
" Where is the life which late we led ? " 
That motley clown in Arden wood, 
Whom humorous Jacques with envy viewed, 
Not even that clown could amplify, 
On this trite text, so long as I. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 221 

Eleven years we now may tell, 

Since we have known each other well ; 

Since, riding side by side, our hand 

First drew the voluntary brand ; 

And sure, through many a varied scene, 

Unkindness never came between. 

Away these winged years have flown, 

To join the mass of ages gone ; 

And though deep marked, like all below, 

With checkered shades of joy and woe ; 

Though thou o'er realms and seas hast ranged, 

Marked cities lost, and empires changed, 

While here at home my narrower ken 

Somewhat of manners saw, and men ; 

Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears 

Fevered the progress of these years ; 

Yet now, days, weeks, and months but seem 

The recollection of a dream, 

So still we glide down to the sea 

Of fathomless eternity. 

Even now it scarcely seems a day, 
Since first I tuned this idle lay ; 
A task so often thrown aside, 
When leisure graver cares denied, 
That now November's dreary gale, 
Whose voice inspired my opening tale, 
That same November gale once more 
Whirls the dry leaves on Yarrow shore. 
Their vexed boughs streaming to the sky, 
Once more our naked birches sigh, 
And Blackhouse heights and Ettrick Pen 
Have donned their wintry shrouds again ; 
And mountain dark, and flooded mead, 
Bid us forsake the banks of Tweed. 



222 S/J? WALTER SCOTT. 

Earlier than wont along the sky, 
Mixed with the rack, the snow mists fly ; 
The shepherd who, in summer sun, 
Had something of our envy won, 
As thou with pencil, I with pen, 
The features traced of hill and glen ; — 
He who, outstretched the livelong day, 
At ease among* the heath-flowers lay, 
Viewed the light clouds with vacant look, 
Or slumbered o'er his tattered book, 
Or idly busied him to guide 
His angle o'er the lessened tide ; — 
At midnight now, the snowy plain 
Finds sterner labor for the swain. 

When red hath set the beamless sun, 
Through heavy vapors dark and dun ; 
When the tired plowman, dry and warm, 
Hears, half asleep, the rising storm 
Hurling the hail and sleeted rain 
Against the casement's tinkling pane ; 
The sounds that drive wild deer and fox 
To shelter in the brake and rocks 
Are warnings which the shepherd ask 
To dismal and to dangerous task. 
Oft he looks forth, and hopes, in vain, 
The blast may sink in mellowing rain ; 
Till, dark above, and white below, 
Decided drives the flaky snow, 
And forth the hardy swain must go. 
Long, with dejected look and whine, 
To leave the hearth his dogs repine ; 
Wnistling and cheering them to aid, 
Around his back he wreathes the plaid : 
His flock he gathers, and he guides, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 223 

To open downs, and mountain sides, 

Where fiercest though the tempest blow, 

Least deeply lies the drift below. 

The blast that whistles o'er the fells 

Stiffens his locks to icicles ; 

Oft he looks back, while, streaming far, 

His cottage window seems a star, — 

Loses its feeble gleam, — and then 

Turns patient to the blast again, 

And, facing to the tempest's sweep, 

Drives through the gloom his lagging sheep. 

If fails his heart, if his limbs fail, 

Benumbing death is in the gale : 

His paths, his landmarks, all unknown, 

Close to the hut, no more his own, 

Close to the aid he sought in vain, 

The morn may find the stiffened swain : 

The widow sees, at dawning pale, 

His orphans raise their feeble wail ; 

And, close beside him, in the snow, 

Poor Yarrow, partner of their woe, 

Couches upon his master's breast, 

And licks his cheek to break his rest. 

Who envies now the shepherd's lot, 
His healthy fare, his rural cot, 
His summer couch by greenwood tree, 
His rustic kirn's loud revelry, 
His native-hill notes, tuned on high, 
To Marion of the blithesome eye, 
His crook, his scrip, his oaten reed, 
And all Arcadia's golden creed ? 

Changes not so with us, my Skene, 
Of human life the varying scene ? 



224 SIR WAITER SCOTT. 

Our youthful summer oft we see 
Dance by on wings of game and glee, 
While the dark storm reserves its rage 
Against the winter of our age : 
As he, the ancient chief of Troy, 
His manhood spent in peace and joy ; 
But Grecian fires and loud alarms 
Called ancient Priam forth to arms. 
Then happy those, since each must drain 
His share of pleasure, share of pain, — 
Then happy those, beloved of Heaven, 
To whom the mingled cup is given ; 
Whose lenient sorrows find relief, 
Whose joys are chastened by their grief. 
And such a lot, my Skene, was thine, 
When thou of late wert doomed to twine 
Just when thy bridal hour was by — 
The cypress with the myrtle tie. 
Just on thy bride her sire had smiled, 
And blessed the union of his child, 
When love must change its joyous cheer, 
And wipe affection's filial tear. 
Nor did the actions next his end 
Speak more the father than the friend : 
Scarce had lamented Forbes paid 
The tribute to his minstrel's shade, 
The tale of friendship scarce was told, 
Ere the narrator's heart was cold — 
Far may we search before we find 
A heart so manly and so kind! 
But not around his honored urn 
Shall friends alone and kindred mourn ; 
The thousand eyes his care had dried 
Pour at his name a bitter tide, 
And frequent falls the grateful dew 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 225 

For benefits the world ne'er knew. 
If mortal charity dare claim 
The Almighty's attributed name, 
Inscribe above his moldering clay, 
"The widow's shield, the orphan's stay." 
Nor, though it wake thy sorrow, deem 
My verse intrudes on this sad theme ; 
For sacred was the pen that wrote, 
" Thy father's friend forget thou not ; " 
And grateful title may I plead, 
For many a kindly word and deed, 
To bring my tribute to his grave : — 
'Tis little — but 'tis all I have. 

To thee, perchance, this rambling strain 
Recalls our summer walks again ; 
When, doing naught, — and, to speak true, 
Not anxious to find aught to do, — 
The wild unbounded hills we ranged, 
While oft our talk its topic changed, 
And, desultory as our way, 
Ranged unconfined from grave to gay. 
Even when it flagged, as oft will chance, 
No effort made to break its trance, 
We could right pleasantly pursue 
Our sports in social silence too ; 
Thou gravely laboring to portray 
The blighted oak's fantastic spray, 
I spelling o'er with much delight 
The legend of that antique knight, 
Tirante by name, ycleped the White. 
At either's feet a trusty squire, 
Pandour and Camp, with eyes of fire, 
Jealous, each other's motions viewed, 
And scarce suppressed their ancient feud. 



'5 



226 s/Jt WALTER SCOTT. 

The laverock whistled from the cloud ; 
The stream was lively, but not loud ; 
From the white thorn the May-flower shed 
Its dewy fragrance round our head : 
Not Ariel lived more merrily 
Under the blossomed bough than we. 

And blithesome nights, too, have been ours, 
When Winter stripped the summer's bowers. 
Careless we heard, what now I hear, 
The wild blast sighing deep and drear, 
When fires were bright, and lamps beamed gay, 
And ladies tuned the lovely lay, 
And he was held a laggard soul 
Who shunned to quaff the sparkling bowl. 
Then he whose absence we deplore, 
Who breathes the gales of Devon's shore, 
The longer missed, bewailed the more ; 
And thou,, and I, and dear-loved Rae, 
And one whose name I may not say, — 
For not mimosa's tender tree 
Shrinks sooner from the touch than he, — 
In merry chorus well combined, 
With laughter drowned the whistling wind. 
Mirth was within, and Care without 
Might gnaw her nails to hear our shout. 
Not but amid the buxom scene 
Some grave discourse might intervene — 
Of the good horse that bore him best, 
His shoulder, hoof, and arching crest ; 
For, like mad Tom's, our chiefest care 
Was horse to ride, and weapon wear. 
Such nights we've had ; and though the game 
Of manhood be more sober tame, 
And though the field-day or the drill 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 227 

Seem less important now, — yet still 
Such may we hope to share again. 
The sprightly thought inspires my strain! 
And mark, how, like a horseman true, 
Lord Marmion's march I thus renew. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 

TO GEORGE ELLIS, Esq. 

Edinburgh. 

WHEN dark December glooms the day, 
And takes our autumn joys away ; 
When short and scant the sunbeam throws 
Upon the weary waste of snows 
A cold and profitless regard, 
Like patron on a needy bard ; 
When silvan occupation's done, 
And o'er the chimney rests the gun, 
And hang in idle trophy near, 
The game pouch, fishing rod, and spear ; 
When wiry terrier, rough and grim, 
And greyhound, with his length of limb, 
And pointer, now employed no more, 
Cumber our parlor's narrow floor; 
When in his stall the impatient steed 
Is long condemned to rest and feed ; 
When from our snow-encircled home 
Scarce cares the hardiest step to roam, 
Since path is none, save that to bring 
The needful water from the spring ; 
When wrinkled news-page, thrice conned o'er, 
Beguiles the dreary hour no more, 
And darkling politician, crossed, 



228 SIR WAITER SCOTT. 

Inveighs against the lingering post, 
And answering housewife sore complains 
Of carriers' snow-impeded wains ; — 
When such the country cheer, I come, 
Well pleased, to seek our city home ; 
For converse and for books to change 
The Forest's melancholy range, 
And welcome with renewed delight 
The busy day and social night. 

Not here need my desponding rhyme 
Lament the ravages of time, 
As erst by Newark's riven towers, 
And Ettrick stripped of forest bowers. 
True, Caledonia's Queen is changed 
Since on her dusky summit ranged, 
Within its steepy limits pent 
By bulwark, line, and battlement, 
And flanking towers, and laky flood, 
Guarded and garrisoned she stood, 
Denying entrance or resort 
Save at each tall embattled port, 
Above whose arch, suspended, hung 
Portcullis spiked with iron prong. 
That long is gone, — but not so long, 
Since, early closed, and opening late, 
Jealous revolved the studded gate, 
Whose task, from eve to morning tide, 
A wicket churlishly supplied. 
Stern then, and steel-girt, was thy brow, 
Dun-Edin! Oh, how altered now, 
W T hen safe amid thy mountain court 
Thou sitt'st, like empress at her sport, 
And liberal, unconfined, and free, 
Flinging thy white arms to the sea, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 229 

For thy dark cloud, with umbered lower, 
That hung o'er cliff and lake and tower, 
Thou gleam'st against the western ray 
Ten thousand lines of brighter day! 

Not she, the championess of old, 
In Spenser's magic tale enrolled, 
She for the charmed spear renowned, 
Which forced each knight to kiss the ground, — 
Not she more changed, when, placed at rest, 
What time she was Malbecco's guest, 
She gave to flow her maiden vest ; 
When from the corselet's grasp relieved, 
Free to the sight her bosom heaved ; 
Sweet was her blue eye's modest smile, 
Erst hidden by the aventayle ; 
And down her shoulders graceful rolled 
Her locks profuse, of paly gold. 
They who whilom, in midnight fight, 
Had marveled at her matchless might, 
No less her maiden charms approved, 
But looking liked, and liking loved. 
The sight could jealous pangs beguile, 
And charm Malbecco's cares awhile ; 
And he, the wandering Squire of Dames, 
Forgot his Columbella's claims, 
And passion, erst unknown, could gain 
The breast of blunt Sir Satyrane ; 
Nor durst light Paridel advance, 
Bold as he was, a looser glance. 
She charmed, at once, and tamed the heart, 
Incomparable Britomarte ! 

So thou, fair City! disarrayed 
Of battled wall and rampart's aid, 



230 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

As stately seem'st, but lovelier far 

Than in that panoply of war. 

Nor deem that from thy fenceless throne 

Strength and security are flown ; 

Still as of yore, Queen of the North! 

Still canst thou send thy children forth. 

Ne'er readier at alarm bell's call 

Thy burghers rose to man thy wall 

Than now, in danger, shall be thine, 

Thy dauntless voluntary line ; 

For fosse and turret proud to stand, 

Their breasts the bulwarks of the land. 

Thy thousands, trained to martial toil, 

Full red would stain their native soil, 

Ere from thy mural crown there fell 

The slightest knosp or pinnacle. 

And if it come, — as come it may, 

Dun-Edin! that eventful day, — 

Renowned for hospitable deed, 

That virtue much with Heaven may plead, 

In patriarchal times whose care 

Descending angels deigned to share ; 

That claim may wrestle blessings down 

On those who fight for The Good Town, 

Destined in every age to be 

Refuge of injured royalty ; 

Since first, when conquering York arose, 

To Henry meek she gave repose, 

Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe, 

Great Bourbon's relics sad she saw. 

Truce to these thoughts ! — for, as they rise, 
How gladly I avert mine eyes, 
Bodings, or true or false, to change 
For Fiction's fair romantic range, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 231 

Or for Tradition's dubious light, 
That hovers 'twixt the day and night : 
Dazzling alternately and dim, 
Her wavering lamp I'd rather trim, 
Knights, squires, and lovely dames to see, 
Creation of my fantasy, 
Than gaze abroad on reeky fen, 
And make of mists invading men. — 
Who loves not more the night of June 
Than dull December's gloomy noon ? 
The moonlight than the fog of frost ? 
But can we say which cheats the most ? 

But who shall teach my harp to gain 
A sound of the romantic strain 
Whose Anglo-Norman tones whilere 
Could win the royal Henry's ear, 
Famed Beauclerk called, for that he loved 
The minstrel, and his lay approved ? 
Who shall these lingering notes redeem, 
Decaying on Oblivion's stream ; 
Such notes as from the Breton tongue 
Marie translated, Blondel sung ? — 
Oh! born, Time's ravage to repair, 
And make the dying Muse thy care ; 
Who, when his scythe her hoary foe 
Was poising for the final blow, 
The weapon from his hand could wring, 
And break his glass, and shear his wing, 
And bid, reviving in his strain, 
The gentle poet live again ; 
Thou, who canst give to lightest lay 
An unpedantic moral gay, 
Nor less the dullest theme bid flit 
On wings of unexpected wit ; 



232 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

In letters as in life approved, 
Example honored, and beloved, — 
Dear Ellis! to the bard impart 
A lesson of thy magic art, 
To win at once the head and heart, — 
At once to charm, instruct, and mend, 
My guide, my pattern, and my friend! 

Such minstrel lesson to bestow 
Be long thy pleasing task, — but, oh! 
No more by thy example teach — 
What few can practice, all can preach — 
With even patience to endure 
Lingering disease and painful cure, 
And boast affliction's pangs subdued 
By mild and manly fortitude. 
Enough, the lesson has been given : 
Forbid the repetition, Heaven! 

Come listen, then! for thou hast known 
And loved the Minstrel's varying tone, 
Who, like his Border sires of old, 
Waked a wild measure rude and bold, 
Till Windsor's oaks and Ascot plain 
With wonder heard the northern strain. 
Come listen! bold in thy applause, 
The bard shall scorn pedantic laws ; 
And, as the ancient art could stain 
Achievements on the storied pane, 
Irregularly traced and planned, 
But yet so glowing and so grand, 
So shall he strive, in changeful hue, 
Field, feast, and combat to renew, 
And loves, and arms, and harpers' glee, 
And all the pomp of chivalry. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 233 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 

TO RICHARD HEBER, Esq. 

Mertoun House, Christinas. 

HEAP on more wood! — the wind is chill; 
But let it whistle as it will, 
We'll keep our Christmas merry still. 
Each age has deemed the newborn year 
The fittest time for festal cheer : 
Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane 
At Iol more deep the mead did drain ; 
High on the beach his galleys drew, 
And feasted all his pirate crew ; 
Then in his low and pine-built hall, 
Where shields and axes decked the wall, 
They gorged upon the half-dressed steer ; 
Caroused in seas of sable beer ; 
While round in brutal jest were thrown 
The half-gnawed rib, and marrowbone, 
Or listened all in grim delight 
While scalds yelled out the joys of fight. 
Then forth in frenzy would they hie, 
While wildly loose their red locks fly, 
And dancing round the blazing pile, 
They make such barbarous mirth the while 
As best might to the mind recall 
The boisterous joys of Odin's hall. 

And well our Christian sires of old 
Loved when the year its course had rolled, 



234 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

And brought blithe Christmas back again, 

With all his hospitable train. 

Domestic and religious rite 

Gave honor to the holy night ; 

On Christmas Eve the bells were rung, 

On Christmas Eve the mass was sung : 

That only night in all the year 

Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear. 

The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ; 

The hall was dressed with holly green ; 

Forth to the wood did merrymen go, 

To gather in the mistletoe. 

Then opened wide the baron's hall 

To vassal, tenant, serf, and all ; 

Power laid his rod of rule aside, 

And Ceremony doffed his pride. 

The heir, with roses in his shoes, 

That night might village partner choose ; 

The lord, underogating, share 

The vulgar game of " post and pair." 

All hailed with uncontrolled delight 

And general voice the happy night, 

That to the cottage, as the crown, 

Brought tidings of salvation down. 

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, 
Went roaring up the chimney wide ; 
The huge hall-table's oaken face, 
Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace, 
Bore then upon its massive board 
No mark to part the squire and lord. 
Then was brought in the lusty brawn 
By old blue-coated serving man ; 
Then the grim boar's head frowned on high, 
Crested with bays and rosemary. 






INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 235 

Well can the green-garbed ranger tell 

How, when, and where the monster fell; 

What dogs before his death he tore, 

And all the baiting of the boar. 

The wassail round, in good brown bowls 

Garnished with ribbons, blithely trowls. 

There the huge sirloin reeked ; hard by 

Plum porridge stood, and Christmas pie ; 

Nor failed old Scotland to produce 

At such high tide her savory goose. 

Then came the merry maskers, in, 

And carols roared with blithesome din ; 

If unmelodious was the song, 

It was a hearty note, and strong. 

Who lists may in their mumming see 

Traces of ancient mystery ; 

White shirts supplied the masquerade, 

And smutted cheeks the visors made ; 

But, oh! what maskers, richly dight, 

Can boast of bosoms half so light! 

England was merry England when 

Old Christmas brought his sports again. 

'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale ; 

'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; 

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer 

The poor man's heart through half the year. 

Still linger in our northern clime 
Some remnants of the good old time ; 
And still within our valleys here 
We hold the kindred title dear, 
Even when, perchance, its farfetched claim 
To Southron ear sounds empty name ; 
For course of blood, our proverbs deem, 
Is warmer than the mountain stream. 



236 SIR WAITER SCOTT. 

And thus my Christmas still I hold 
Where my great-grandsire came of old, 
With amber beard and flaxen hair 
And reverend apostolic air, 
The. feast and holytide to share, 
And mix sobriety with wine, 
And honest mirth with thoughts divine : 
Small thought was his, in after time 
E'er to be hitched into a rhyme. 
The simple sire could only boast 
That he was loyal to his cost, 
The banished race of kings revered, 
And lost his land, — but kept his beard. 

In these dear halls, where welcome kind 
Is with fair liberty combined, 
Where cordial friendship gives the hand, 
And flies constraint the magic wand 
Of the fair dame that rules the land, 
Little we heed the tempest drear, 
While music, mirth, and social cheer 
Speed on their wings the passing year. 
And Mertoun's halls are fair e'en now, 
When not a leaf is on the bough. 
Tweed loves them well, and turns again, 
As loath to leave the sweet domain, 
And holds his mirror to her face, 
And clips her with a close embrace : — 
Gladly as he we seek the dome, 
And as reluctant turn us home. 

How just that at this time of glee 
My thoughts should, Heber, turn to thee! 
For many a merry hour we've known, 
And heard the chimes of midnight's tone. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 237 

Cease, then, my friend! a moment cease, 
And leave these classic tomes in peace! 
Of Roman and of Grecian lore 
Sure mortal brain can hold no more. 
These ancients, as Noll Bluff might say, 
" Were pretty fellows in their day ; " 
But time and tide o'er all prevail — 
On Christmas Eve a Christmas tale — 
Of wonder and of war — " Profane! 
What! leave the lofty Latian strain, 
Her stately prose, her verse's charms, 
To hear the clash of rusty arms : 
In Fairyland or Limbo lost, 
To jostle conjurer and ghost, 
Goblin and witch!" — Nay, Heber dear, 
Before you touch my charter, hear ; 
Though Leyden aids, alas! no more, 
My cause with many-languaged lore, 
This may I say : — in realms of death 
Ulysses meets Alcides' wraith; 
^Eneas, upon Thracia's shore, 
The ghost of murdered Polydore ; 
For omens, we in Livy cross, 
At every turn, locntus Bos. 
As grave and duly speaks that ox 
As if he told the price of stocks, 
Or held, in Rome republican, 
The place of Common-councilman. 

All nations have their omens drear, 
Their legends wild of woe and fear. 
To Cambria look — the peasant see, 
Bethink him of Glendowerdy, 
And shun " the Spirit's Blasted Tree." 
The Highlander, whose red claymore 



238 SIX WALTER SCOTT. 

The battle turned on Maida's shore, 

Will on a Friday morn look pale, 

If asked to tell a fairy tale : 

He fears the vengeful Elfin King, 

Who leaves that day his grassy ring : 

Invisible to human ken, 

He walks among the sons of men. 

Didst e'er, dear Heber, pass along 
Beneath the towers of Franchemont, 
Which, like an eagle's nest in air, 
Hang o'er the stream and hamlet fair? 
Deep in their vaults, the peasants say, 
A mighty treasure buried lay, 
Amassed through rapine and through wrong 
By the last Lord of Franchemont. 
The iron chest is bolted hard, 
A huntsman sits, its constant guard ; 
Around his neck his horn is hung, 
His hanger in his belt is slung ; 
Before his feet his bloodhounds lie : 
And, 'twere not for his gloomy eye, 
Whose withering glance no heart can brook, 
As true a huntsman doth he look 
As bugle e'er in brake did sound, 
Or ever hallooed to a hound. 
To chase the fiend and win the prize 
In that same dungeon ever tries 
An aged necromantic priest ; 
It is an hundred years at least 
Since 'twixt them first the strife begun, 
And neither yet has lost nor won. 
And oft the conjurer's words will make 
The stubborn demon groan and quake ; 
And oft the bands of iron break, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 239 

Or bursts one lock, that still amain, 
Fast as 'tis opened, shuts again. 
That magic strife within the tomb 
May last until the day of doom, 
Unless the adept shall learn to tell 
The very word that clinched the spell 
When Franch'mont locked the treasure cell. 
An hundred years are passed and gone, 
And scarce three letters has he won. 

Such general superstition may 
Excuse for old Pitscottie say, 
Whose gossip history has given 
My song the messenger from heaven 
That warned, in Lithgow, Scotland's King, 
Nor less the infernal summoning ; 
May pass the Monk of Durham's tale, 
Whose demon fought in Gothic mail ; 
May pardon plead for Fordun grave, 
Who told of Gilford's Goblin- Cave. 
But why such instances to you, 
Who in an instant can renew 
Your treasured hoards of various lore, 
And furnish twenty thousand more? 
Hoards, not like theirs- whose volumes rest 
Like treasures in the Franch'mont chest, 
While gripple owners still refuse 
To others what they cannot use ; 
Give them the priest's whole century, 
They shall not spell you letters three ; 
Their pleasure in the books the same 
The magpie takes in pilfered gem. 
Thy volumes, open as thy heart, 
Delight, amusement, science, art, 
To every ear and eye impart ; 



240 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

Yet who, of all who thus employ them, 
Can like the owner's self enjoy them ?- 
But, hark! I hear the distant drum! 
The day of Flodden Field is come. — 
Adieu, dear Heber! life and health, 
And store of literary wealth! 



GLOSSARY. 



Angel. An English gold coin worth 
about half a pound, or $2.50. The 
name came from a representation, 
on one face, of the Archangel Mi- 
chael overcoming a dragon. 

Argent. (A term of heraldry.) Sil- 
ver. 

Ascension Day. Thursday, the for- 
tieth day after Easter. It is observed 
as the day of Christ's ascension. 

Aves. Prayers addressed to the Vir- 
gin Mary, beginning with the Latin 
words Ave Maria ("Hail, Mary"). 

Azure. (A term of heraldry.) Blue. 

Baldric. A fancy belt worn over 
either shoulder, crossing the body 
diagonally to the waist or below 
it, and frequently suspending a 
sword. 

Bandrol or banderole. A small 
streamer or flag attached to a lance 
near its head. 

Bartisan. A small overhanging tur- 
ret projecting from an angle of a 
building. 

Basnet. A light helmet, often with- 
out a visor, but in later times more 
frequently possessing one. 

Bastion. A V-shaped work project- 
ing outward from the main wall of 
a rampart. 

Beads. The string of beads called 
by Roman Catholics a " rosary," 
and used for counting prayers. 

16 24 



Beadsman. A man hired to pray, es- 
pecially for some person. 

Bent. A slope, as of a hill. 

Bill. A long-handled infantry wea- 
pon of the fourteenth and fifteenth 
centuries. It was similar to the 
halberd, but less complicated. 

Blackcock. A kind of grouse com- 
mon in Europe. 

Bonnet. A kind of cap worn by 
men in Scotland. It was made of 
thick seamless woolen stuff, soft 
and very durable. 

Borderer. One living near the 
Border between Scotland and Eng- 
land. 

Bower. A chamber. 

Bowls. A game played with balls 
» on a level lawn, similar to the game 
of tenpins. 

BowYER. (Literally, dowyer, like 
lawyer and sawyer. ) A soldier 
armed with bows and arrows ; an 
archer. 

Brake. A thicket. 

Breviary. A book containing, in 
an abridged form, the daily prayers 
of the Roman Catholic or Greek 
Church. 

Brigantine. A coat of mail made 
of iron rings sewed into cloth. 

Broom. A low prickly shrub. 

Buckler. A small shield, worn on 
the arm, for warding off blows. . 



242 



GLOSSARY. 



Budget. A bag or sack carried by 
travelers. 

Burgher. An inhabitant of a bor- 
ough or town. 

Buskins. Boots tied just below the 
knee. 

Cap of maintenance. A cap made 
of scarlet velvet trimmed with er- 
mine. Originally it was worn by 
the king-at-arms, but later was car- 
ried before the sovereigns of Eng- 
land at their coronation. 

Carpet knight, i. A knight who 
shunned the hardships of the camp. 
2. One knighted for some service 
other than military. 

Cell. A small monastery or hermit- 
cell. 

Chapelle. A chapel ; a recess with 
an altar, in an aisle of a church, 
usually dedicated to the Virgin or 
to some saint. 

Chaplet. A string of beads upon 
which Roman Catholics count their 
prayers. Strictly speaking, it is a 
third of a rosary, or fifty beads. 

Cheat. Escheat ; penalty ; forfeiture. 

Check at. A term of falconry, used 
to designate the flight of the falcon 
when it left the pursuit of game to 
follow some other object. 

Chief. (A term of heraldry. ) The 
upper portion of a shield, separated 
from the rest by a horizontal line. 

Cincture. A belt. 

Clerk. A scholar. 

Cloister. Covered or inclosed walks 
about the inner court of a monas- 
tery, or other building of religious 
character. 

Cloth-yard shaft. An arrow a 
little over a yard long. 



Cognizance. An older form of the 
crest. It was worn by the knight 
and his followers as a distinguish- 
. ing token. In a more general sense 
it is any badge worn by retainers 
or dependants to show to whom or 
to what party they belong. 

Combust. A term applied to the 
moon and planets when their near- 
ness to the sun renders their light 
invisible. 

Corselet. Armor which covered the 
trunk. 

COUCHANT. (A term of heraldry.) 
In a reclining posture. 

Creed. A profession of faith begin- 
ning with the Latin word credo (" I 
believe "). 

Cresset. An iron frame to hold 
combustibles for light. 

Crest. The distinguishing mark or 
token of a knight, worn by himself 
and his servants. It was placed 
above the shield in the coat of arms 
or was used alone. 

Crosier. The staff carried by a bish- 
op. Used to signify the power of 
the Roman Catholic Church. 

Croupe. The part of a horse's back 
behind the saddle. 

Curvet. A leap of a horse in which 
the forelegs are raised, and then, 
while these are falling, the hindlegs 
are lifted, so that all feet are in the 
air at once. 

Daw. A bird of the crow species, 
found in Europe ; a jackdaw ; meta- 
phorical for a stupid fellow. 

Deas. Dais ; a raised platform on 
which a lord, with his family and 
guests, sat. 

Demivolt. A movement of a horse 



GLOSS A X V. 



243 



in which it makes a partial turn, 
with its front feet in the air. 

Device. An emblematic design with 
a motto. 

Donjon. The strongest part of a 
castle, often separated from the rest 
of the structure. It contained the 
prison: hence our word "dun- 
geon " (a prison). Also called a 
" keep " or a " donjon keep." 

Doublet. A close-fitting garment 
for men, extending from the neck 
to a little below the waist. 

Down. i. A sandy elevation thrown 
up along a shore by the wind. 2. 
A hill rather flat on top. 

Drawbridge. A bridge over the 
ditch surrounding a castle. One 
end of it was drawn up in time of 
peril. 

Dub. To confer the order of knight- 
hood by striking the candidate on 
the shoulder with the flat of the 
sword. 

Eke. Also. 

Embrasure. An opening in a wall 
or parapet for firing guns. 

Errant-knight. Knight-errant; a 
knight who traveled in search of 
adventure. 

Falcon. A bird of the hawk species, 
trained to hunt game. 

Fane. (Latin, fanum. ) A place con- 
secrated to religion ; a church, tem- 
ple, monastery, or convent. 

Featly. Dexterously. 

Fell. High land, rocky and barren. 

Field. (A term of heraldry.) The 
ground of a shield. 

Forayers. Those who make forays ; 
plunderers. 

Fosse. A ditch ; a moat. 



Friar. A monk, especially one of 
the four orders, — Franciscans, 
Augustines, Dominicans, Carmel- 
ites. 

Frontlet. A fillet or band worn 
on the forehead. 

Gallery. A corridor or passage- 
way. 

Galley. A war vessel driven by oars 
and sails. 

Galliard. A quick, brisk dance. 

Gammon. The thigh of a hog salted, 
and smoked or dried. 

Gauntlet. A large glove having 
plates of metal on the back. 

Gentles. (A term of address.) Sirs ; 
gentlemen. 

Gorget. Armor to protect the 
neck. 

Gorse. A prickly evergreen shrub 
with yellow flowers ; also called 
furze. 

Gule. (A term of heraldry. ) Red. 

Hackbut, hagbut, harquebus. A 
kind of heavy firearm. 

Halberd. A long-handled weapon, 
the head of which was a combina- 
tion of spear and battle-ax. 

Hold. A fortress ; a stronghold. 

Horse-boy. A page on horseback. 

Horse courser. A horse dealer, 
especially one interested in racing 
horses ; a horse speeder. 

Hosen. Close-fitting breeches reach- 
ing to the knees. 

Housing. A cloth covering for a 
horse, usually decorated. 

Keep. A stronghold or donjon. See 
Donjon. 

Ken. To know. 

King-at-arms. A chief of heralds. 

Kirtle. A gown. 



244 



GLOSSARY. 



Leaguer. The camp of a besieging 
army. 

Leash, i. A thong by which hunt- 
ing dogs are held. 2. A line used 
in holding the falcon. 

Lent. A period of forty days' dura- 
tion, beginning with Ash Wednes- 
day, and ending at Easter. It is ob- 
served by fasting in commemoration 
of Christ's forty days in the wilder- 
ness. 

L'Envoy. A postscript to a literary 
production, either recommending it 
or explaining its character. 

Line. The rampart of a fortifica- 
tion. 

Linstock. A staff, forked at one 
end, to hold a lighted coal, used for 
firing cannon. 

Lists. (From the French, meaning 
"lines.") In English, ground in- 
closed by the barriers at a tourna- 
ment. 

LORDLINGS. Sirs ; gentlemen. 

Lower ward. The part of a castle 
outside the donjon and central de- 
fenses. 

Mace. A long metal-headed club. 

Magi. Members of the caste of 
priests, especially among the an- 
cient Medes and Persians ; also used 
in Christian history as a term for 
wise men or sages. 

Mail. Armor made of rings of steel 
linked together. 

Malison. A form of words express- 
ing a curse. 

Mark. An old English coin worth 
about $3.33. 

Mass. Communion service in the 
Roman Catholic Church ; the eu- 
charist. 



Massy More. From a Moorish word, 
Mazmona, meaning " dungeon." 
The word was frequently used in 
Scotland. 

Meed. Reward. 

Men at arms. Soldiers completely 
armed. 

Minion. A favorite. 

Morion. An open helmet, having no 
beaver or visor. 

Morrice-pike. A Moorish stave. 

Moss. A kind of bog or swamp. 

Mullet. A star figure with five 
points, representing the rowel or 
wheel of a spur ; an emblem of 
heraldry. 

Novice. One who has been received 
into monastic orders on probation, 
but has taken no vows. 

Or. (A term of heraldry.) Yellow. 

Page. A youth in attendance on a 
person of rank. 

Paladin. Originally one of the 
twelve peers of Charlemagne, later 
used generally for any distinguished 
champion. 

Palmer. Originally one who had 
made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land 
and returned with a palm leaf ; later 
the name was given to those pil- 
grims who spent their lives in going 
from one shrine to another. 

Parapet. A wall or rampart breast- 
high. 

Pardoner. One authorized by the 
Pope to grant pardons. 

Pass. (A term in fencing.) To make 
a thrust with the sword. 

Pennon. A flag having a swallow- 
tail form. 

Pensil. A small pennon borne on a 
lance. 



GLOSSARY. 



245 



Pentacle. A piece of linen inscribed 
with magical characters, and folded 
with five corners. The magician 
extended it towards obstinate spirits 
to induce obedience. 

Pied. Many-colored. 

Pike. A long staff with a pointed 
iron tip. 

Pilgrim. One who traveled to the 
Holy Land, or noted shrines else- 
where, for the purpose of worship. 

Plaid. A rectangular garment usu- 
ally made of a checkered material, 
but sometimes plain gray or gray 
with black stripes. It is worn by 
both men and women in Scotland. 

Plate. Armor made by riveting 
sheets of steel together. 

Portcullis. A heavy grating, made 
to slide in vertical grooves, and 
covering the entrance to a castle. 

Pricker. A horseman, so called 
from the spurs he wore. 

Psaltery. An old-fashioned stringed 
instrument. 

Ptarmigan. A species of grouse 
having feathered feet. 

Pursuivant. A man of lower rank 
than a herald, but having similar 
duties. The persons of heralds 
and pursuivants were sacred, and 
they were the acknowledged mes- 
sengers between hostile powers. 

Quaigh. A large drinking cup, usu- 
ally made of wood. 

Quartered. A term of heraldry 
used to designate the division of a 
shield into four parts, generally by 
horizontal and perpendicular lines, 
and sometimes into more than 
four. 

Ramped. (A term of heraldry.) Ram- 



pant ; rising with both forelegs ele- 
vated, but one above the other. 

Rased. Grazed. 

Retrograde. A term in astronomy, 
indicating the motion of a planet 
from east to west. 

Rochet. A linen garment, some- 
thing like a surplice, worn by the 
bishops of the Roman Catholic 
Church. 

Roundelay. A song in which one 
strain is often repeated. 

Rowel. The small sharp-pointed 
wheel of a spur. 

Runnel. A small brook; a rivu- 
let. 

Sable. (A term of heraldry.) Black. 

Sackbut. A wind instrument, made 
of brass, and similar to a trombone. 

Safe-conduct. A pass, guide, or 
other security, enabling one to travel 
safely in a hostile or foreign coun- 
try. 

Scaur. A steep bank. 

Scrip. A small bag. 

Scroll. I. A banner bearing a mot- 
to. 2. A letter folded into a roll. 

Scutcheon. Escutcheon; a surface, 
usually that of a shield, on which 
armorial devices were arranged, ac- 
cording to the laws of heraldry. 

Sea dog. A kind of seal. 

Sea mew. A gull. 

Seneschal. Originally a domestic 
officer in houses of rank, who had 
charge of feasts ; a steward. 

Sewer. An upper servant in a castle. 

Shaw. A copse ; a thicket. 

Shred. To sever. 

Sire. Lord ; master (an old mean- 
ing of the word). 

Siren. An enchantress. 



246 



GLOSSARY. 



SLOGAN. A battle cry. Originally- 
restricted to the war cry of a High- 
land clan. 

Solands store. Solands stored up ; 
i.e., kinds of geese or gannets, 
found in Europe and America, called 
solan. 

Spell. A stanza, couplet, or phrase 
thought to have magical power. 

Spoiled. Defrauded. 

Spray. A small branch ; a twig. 

Squire. An attendant on a knight, 
usually of noble birth, and himself 
a candidate for knighthood. 

Stall. A carved seat for dignitaries 
in the choir of a church. 

Steel-jack. A jacket having metal 
rings sewed or quilted into cloth, 
and worn to protect the body against 
spear thrusts. 

Stirrup cup. A cup of wine drunk 
at parting from a guest on horse- 
back, with feet in the stirrups. 

Stoop. (A term of falconry.) To 
descend. 

Sumpter mule. A mule for carry- 
ing baggage ; a pack mule. 

Tabard. A sleeveless coat worn 
over armor, and emblazoned with 
the arms of the wearer. In this 
decorated form it became the dis- 
tinctive garment of heralds and pur- 
suivants. 

Tables. Backgammon and draughts 
or checkers. 

Targe. A round shield of cowhide, 
studded with nails. 

Tourney. A tournament; a mock 
battle between knights. 

Traverse. (A technical term in 
fencing. ) To make movements in 
opposition. 



Tressure. The ornamented border 
of a shield. 
j Trews. Breeches short to the knees, 
and striped with the clan color. 

Trine. An astrological term applied 
to planets 120 (the third part of 
the zodiac) apart. It was a favor- 
able condition. 

Truncheon. A short staff of office. 

Unicorn. An heraldic animal sup- 
porting the shield on the Scottish 
coat of arms. It has the head, neck, 
and body of a horse, the legs of a 
buck, the tail of a lion, and a long 
horn projecting from the center of 
the forehead. 

Varlet. Originally a diminutive of 
" vassal," and applied to attendants 
on knights ; later a rascal, a scoun- 
drel. 
j Veil. A part of the costume of a 
nun, symbolic of her retirement 
from the world. 
! Vespers. Evening services. 
j Vestal vow. The vow of perpetual 
virginity taken by a nun. The word 
" vestal " is derived from the Vestal 
Virgins, devotees of the Temple of 
Vesta in ancient Rome. 

Vicar. In the Roman Catholic Church 
a parish priest appointed by the bish- 
op to have limited authority over a 
certain district. 

Visor. The part of a helmet which 
protects the face, and contains open- 
ings for seeing and breathing. 

Wand. A staff of authority. 

Wassail bowl. The vessel which 
held the wassail, — a drink made 
of wine, ale, sugar, and spices, to 
which toast and crab apples were 
added. 



GLOSSARY. 



247 



Weeds. Clothes, especially outer 

garments. 
Wend. To go. 

Whin. A plant similar to furze. 
Wimple. A kind of veil used to cover 

the neck and chin. 
Wives. Women (a Scottish use of 

the word). 



Wold. A moor ; a plain, or open 

country. 
Wot. To know. 
Yare. Ready; prompt. 
Yeoman, i. A servant or attendant. 

2. A small land holder. 
Zone. A belt ; a girdle. 



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Compendium of English Literature. 800 pp . . . $1.75 
English Literature of the Nineteenth Century. 800 pp. 1.75 

Compendium of American Literature. 784 pp. . . 1.75 

SMITH'S LITERATURE SERIES. By M. W. Smith. 

Elements of English. 232 pp , .60 

Studies in English Literature. 427 pp $1.20 

The first of these two books, giving a general history of the English language ; 
the second takes up special works of distinguished writers. 

SPALDING'S HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

i2mo, cloth. 413 pp $105 

With an outline of the origin and growth of the English language, illustrated by 
extracts. There is also a chapter of contemporary American Literature. 

GILMAN'S FIRST STEPS IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

By Arthur Gilman, A.M. i8mo, cloth. 233 pp. . . . .60 

GILMORE'S ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND EARLY LIT- 
ERATURE. By J. H. Gilmore, A.M. i2mo, cloth. 133 pp. .60 
It contains a topical abstract of the English language and its early Literature; 
a brief resume of American Literature, and a valuable list of pseudonyms. 

ALDEN'S STUDIES IN BRYANT. (Literature Primer Series.) 

By Joseph Alden, D.D. i2mo, flexible cloth. 127 pp. . . .35 

With an introduction by William Cullen Bryant. Consisting of a number of 

Bryant's best and most famous poems, each followed by a series 01 questions. 

BROOKE'S ENGLISH LITERATURE. (Literature Primer Series.) 
By Rev. Stopford Brooke, M. A. i8mo, flexible cover. 226 pp. .35 
A complete though condensed handbook of English Literature from before the 
Norman Conquest to the year 1832, with an American Appendix. 

DOWDEN'S SHAKESPEARE. (Literature Primer Series.) By Ed- 
ward Dowden, LL.D. i8mo, flexible cover. 167 pp 35 

GLADSTONE'S HOMER, (Literature Primer Series.) By the Right 
Hon. W. E. Gladstone. i8mo, flexible cover. 153 pp. . . .35 

J EBB'S GREEK LITERATURE. (Literature Primer Series.) By 

R. C. Jebb, M.A. i8mo, flexible cover. 166 pp 35 

Divided into three parts: Part I., The Early Literature; Part II., the Attic 
Literature ; Part III., the Literature of the Decadence. 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, Publishers 

NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO BOSTON ATLANTA 



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Carefully Annotated. 



MACAULAY'S SECOND ESSAY ON CHATHAM. 
IRVING'S SKETCH-BOOK (Ten selections). 
THE DE COVERLEY PAPERS, from the Spectator 
SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS C^SAR. 
SHAKESPEARE'S TWELFTH NIGHT. 
SCOTT'S IVANHOE. 
SCOTT'S MARMiON. 



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